


Wedded Bliss

by Keays



Series: Twist of Fate [1]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:44:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 422,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keays/pseuds/Keays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part four of Twist of Fate<br/>Hannibal and Jed adjust to married life.<br/>Hannibal and Miranda finally get away on their belated honeymoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remeniscing

**Author's Note:**

> This story is still in progress as of March 26th, 2015. I try to post a chapter every two weeks but occasionally life gets in the way and it doesn't happen. Still, I will keep the chapters coming as quickly as I can.
> 
> This is the wind up for Twist of Fate and I expect it to be the last I will write in this universe for some time as I have other creative endeavours to focus on for a while. I may however write a few short stories along this vein and will certainly post them here when I do.
> 
> Enjoy.

The cab pulled up in front of the gate leading to a very impressive walkway bordered by bright flowers and blossoming, aromatic shade trees. Wrought iron adorned steps culminated at a set of elaborately carved heavy oaken doors that seemed to intimidate even the most legitimate of visitors even before they pulled the chime. 

This was not so with the two finely dressed middle-aged men who stepped out of the cab and glanced around with pleasure rather than anxiety at the opulent townhouse rising up before them. They appeared to be right at ease in this upper class neighbourhood and stood for a moment, with thumbs in lapels as they took in the the fresh, clean smell of old money.  
   
“Jed! Give me a hand,” came the request from inside the cab.  
   
Jed Curry turned instantly and offered a hand to his wife.  
   
“Sorry Darlin',” he quickly apologized as Beth carefully stepped down to the sidewalk. “Got caught up in the moment.”  
   
Heyes chuckled at his cousin's lack of good manners as he turned to pay the cab driver the fee plus a healthy tip. The driver's eyes lit up with the generous offering and gave a vigorous nod in appreciation.  
   
“Thank ye' sir!” the words tumbled out through broken front teeth. “This'll buy ole' Clive here grain fer a week. Thank ye'!”  
   
“That's a fine horse you have there,” Heyes complimented as he gave the bony chestnut rump a gentle pat. “I can see you take good care of him.”  
   
“Oh yes sir. Don't have no business without ole' Clive.”  
   
Heyes smiled and nodded. He turned back to tend to his own manners just as Miranda was gently handing a cooing swaddled bundle into the mother's waiting arms. Heyes, with his usual impeccable timing, extended his hand to his own wife and assisted her out of the cab. Once all had disembarked the driver clucked to his tired horse and the cab jolted away to join the light traffic on this quiet well manicured street.  
   
The two couples stood on the sidewalk and surveyed the townhouse in front of them. Miranda had seen expensive town-homes like this one before so wasn't quite in awe as her young 'cousin-in-law' appeared to be. Beth stood and gaped up at the impressive structure and found herself shaking her head in wonderment.  
   
“I thought you said crime doesn't pay,” she whispered to her husband. “From what I've seen of Mr. O' Sullivan's home and now this one I'm beginning to think it pays very well.”  
   
Jed looked down at his wife, momentarily stumped.   
   
“Well, yeah. But....”  
   
Jed and Hannibal exchanged looks, then each took in a deep breath and released it in the form of huge sighs. Thumbs went into lapels again and they stood and stared at the front of the house. One side of the double oaken doors slowly inched open and an old bald head with white tufts of hair adorning the ears poked through the slit and pale rummy eyes gazed down at them.  
   
“Are you ladies and gents coming for a visit?” asked the squeaky geriatric voice.  
   
“Oh!” Heyes was brought out of his trance and the two couples made their way up the steps. “Good morning Charles. You're looking well today.”  
   
Charles straightened up slightly as the visitors approached and his eyes squinted to take in the features of the man standing in front of him.  
   
“Who are you?” he finally ventured with a touch of suspicion.  
   
“It's me, Hannibal Heyes. Remember?” Heyes introduced himself. “And he's Kid Curry. You remember us.”  
   
“Who?” The old geezer in the black tie and tails cupped a hand around his ear.  
   
“Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry,” Heyes repeated a little louder. “Mr. Saunders is expecting us.”  
   
Charles shuffled his feet nervously as he swivelled his body around to take in the four young people. His neck was awfully stiff these days. “Ehhh?” he asked again. “What's that you say?”  
 swivelled  his body around to take in the four young people. His neck was awfully stiff these days. “Ehhh?” he asked again. “What's that you say?”  
   
“HANNIBAL HEYES AND KID...” Heyes cut himself off as he noticed two ladies passing by suddenly glance up and then hurry along their way. He wasn't sure if it was because they recognized the name or simply assumed that anyone raising their voice in this neighbourhood must be a ruffian.  
   
Jed stepped forward and putting a hand on bowed shoulder, he put his mouth right up to Charles' ear.  
“Mr. Saunders is expecting us!”  
   
Charles instantly brightened up and actually did a quick little shuffle in his excitement at having heard the comment.  
   
“Mr. Saunders is expecting you?”  
   
“Yes!” four people chorused and nodded affirmation.  
   
“Oh, oh! Yes. Do come in!” Charles quickly shuffled around and opened the door to lead the way into the plushly carpeted alcove. “Mr. Saunders is in the smoking room. Come come, I will show you the way.”  
   
“That's alright Charles,” Heyes tried again. “We know the way.”  
   
“Ehh?”  
   
“No...THE WAY!”  
   
“What's that?”  
   
Heyes smiled and removing their hats the two men handed them over to the hired help. They both gave the old butler friendly pats on the shoulder, then offering their arms to their respective ladies, led the way down the carpeted hall towards the smoking room.  
   
Charles stood where his feet were planted and watched the visitors carry on without him. He looked confused and his lower jaw started to wag in the assumption that he was about to say something. Nothing came to mind so he closed his mouth and gazed down at the hats in his arms and wondered what in the world he was expected to do with these.  
   
   
“Hello Soapy,” Heyes greeted the elderly man who was sitting in his favourite chair with a blanket tucked around his lap and a glass of sherry on the table beside him.  
   
“Hi Soapy,” Jed reiterated. “How are ya'?”  
   
The two men moved in closer to their friend and gently placed hands of acknowledgement on a knee or a shoulder. The first thing the younger men noticed was the frailty of the skeletal frame underneath the clothing. Heyes leaned over his old friend with a hand still on his shoulder while Jed knelt down in front of him. The two cousin exchanged concerned glances.  
   
The old man came out of his stupor and much to the boys' relief, a light came on in the elderly eyes and a smile brightened the wrinkled face.  
   
“Kid!” he greeted the younger man who was right in his line of sight. “How are you?”  
   
Jed grinned. “Great Soapy. How are you?”  
   
“Fine, fine,” Soapy assured him as he gave the Kid's hand a reassuring pat. “Is Heyes with you?”  
   
“I'm right here Soapy,” Heyes' baritone came from behind the old man. He quickly stepped around so Soapy could easily see him.   
   
Soapy smiled up at him. “Boys! Boys! It's so good to see you. Come come; pull up some chairs and tell an old man what you've been up to these days.”  
   
“Well Soapy,” Heyes straightened up. “we wanted to introduce you to our wives. And Kid's got a young'un too.”  
   
“Wives?” Soapy asked incredulously. “You two got married?”  
   
Hannibal and Jed motioned to their wives to come over and meet the elderly gentleman. Both ladies hesitated, feeling a little awkward of intruding on this meeting of old friends.  
   
“Yeah Soapy,” Kid told him. “We sent ya' a telegram, remember?”  
   
“You did?” Soapy looked concerned. “Last thing I remember about you two, is the newspapers going on about Heyes here going to prison.” He sadly shook his head. “Terrible thing that.” He took hold of Heyes' hand with his own bony digits and looked up at him with beseeching eyes. “I'm sorry I never got in touch my boy. I hope you forgive an old man's fear of prison.”  
   
Heyes chuckled. “That's not just an old man's fear Soapy. And I understood. I'm a free man now, and as we said; we got married—I mean, you know; to ladies!”  
   
An impish grin took over his face as he sent a quick glance to the Kid. Jed chuckled. Soapy looked up at the dark haired beauty (meaning Miranda, ladies, not Heyes. Although he is a dark haired beauty himself) standing before him.  
   
Heyes straightened up and slipped an arm around Miranda's waist. “This is my wife...”  
   
“Grace!” Soapy declared.  
   
“No,” Heyes gently corrected him. “No, her name's Miranda.”  
   
Soapy looked confused. “But you're married to Grace. Oh you two children looked so happy together. A very fine couple.”  
   
“No Soapy,” Heyes corrected him again. “Grace was a....well, just a friend. Remember? This is my wife.”  
   
“Oh,” Soapy looked up at Randa and then smiled. He offered up a trembling hand for her to shake. “Miranda is it?”  
   
“Yes, Mr. Saunders.”  
   
“Oh no, my child. Call me Soapy,” he told her. “Everyone does. Come come, sit down. Now where is that Charles with more sherry. That man is becoming more and more unreliable!”  
   
Heyes and the Kid looked around for more chairs and quickly dragged four over so they could all sit in a crescent around the old man.  
   
“I'll go look for him,” Heyes offered. “You just relax.”  
   
Heyes left and Soapy smiled affectionately after him.  
   
“Always such a good and considerate boy, Heyes was,” Soapy reminisced. “A shame about him going to prison. Will he be out soon?”  
   
“He's out now Soapy,” Jed reminded him. “Remember? We're here for a visit and to introduce you to our wives.”  
   
“Wives? You have more than one? So Heyes is married to Grace and Miranda? How did he manage that?”  
   
Kid chuckled. “No Soapy, he's just married to Miranda. And this is my wife Beth.”  
   
The old eyes smiled appreciatively at the petite and pretty blonde sitting across from him. Beth smiled and extended her free hand to gently clasp his.  
   
“Hello,” she said. “We've heard so much about you. It's so lovely to finally get to meet you.”  
   
“My my my,” Soapy grinned at the two ladies in front of him. “Such fine young ladies.” His brows went up in surprise as the blanket wrapped bundle in Beth's arms squirmed and let out a mild yell. “Good heavens—is that a cat!? In the house!!”  
   
Beth protectively tightened her hold around the infant while Jed actually did break out laughing this time.  
   
“No Soapy! That's my son!”  
   
“Your son?”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“It sounds like a cat.”  
   
“No!” Jed could hardly stop laughing whereas Beth looked incensed. “C'mon Darlin', let Soapy have a look at him.”  
   
Beth seemed hesitant while Miranda sat back in her chair and tried hard not to join in with Jed's laughter. This whole situation was taking on a mildly surrealistic tone.  
   
“C'mon Beth, it's alright.”  
   
Beth looked to the old man and then seeing the honest, inquisitive look in his old eyes, she relaxed and smiled. Leaning forward, she loosened the blanket around her child's face and presented him to be admired. Soapy leaned forward and reached out a long skinny finger to touch the soft, glowing cheek. Beth was a little concerned that the old man might try to hold the infant, but she need not have worried as Soapy only wanted to touch him and make his acquaintance.  
   
“His name's Thaddeus Jedediah,” Kid informed his friend.  
   
“Well, what do ya' know?” Soapy smiled as he gazed upon the next generation. “I never thought I'd see the day that you two boys would settle down. Especially you Kid; you just liked the ladies too much.”  
   
“Oh well....”  
   
Fortunately Heyes returned at that moment carrying the sherry decanter along with four more glasses. He briefly wondered why Beth was looking embarrassed while Miranda was laughing into her hand. Jed sent a relieved look over to his cousin.  
   
“Anybody for sherry?” Heyes asked.  
   
“Yes!” came the very adamant chorus of three.  
   
   
Fifteen minutes later both ladies had warmed to the charm of the old conman and Soapy himself was having the time of his life, flirting shamelessly with his proteges' wives.  
   
“You have such a lovely home,” Miranda was saying. “Why did such a fine gentleman like yourself never marry and have someone to share it with?”  
   
“Oh ho ho!” Soapy's brows went up in surprise. “My but your lady is blunt, Heyes. Of course that's hardly a surprise is it?”  
   
Miranda smiled at her husband's slight discomfort. “Hannibal claims that's one of the reasons why he loves me. I'm afraid I do still embarrass him at times though.”  
   
Heyes coughed into his hand and Soapy let loose a full-hearted laugh.  
   
“Never you mind my dear,” Soapy assured her and he leaned over to give her a very friendly pat on the knee. “That young smart-alack always did need a curb bit to keep him in line.”  
   
Miranda smiled broadly over at her husband. “Serves him right for never telling us about you.”  
   
“Oh, don't take that personally my dear,” Soapy told her. “In the confidence game one learns to be discreet. I made sure to teach that to both these boys right from the start.”  
   
“Oh I love this!” Beth declared. “Can we have some stories of their younger years? How did you meet? Were they good right from the start? Did they cause you no end of trouble?”  
   
“Ho ho!” Kid interjected. “Discreet! Remember Beth. Soapy can't go into...”  
   
“Of course he can!” Miranda insisted. “You're not wanted anymore and besides, I hardly think that anyone here would turn either of you in.”  
   
“Yes dear,” Beth supported her cousin-in-law. “And this is what you get for not telling us yourselves.”  
   
Soapy was chuckling to himself as he shakily poured another round of sherry.  
   
“Do I get the feeling we're going to regret coming here?” Jed asked mock-seriously.   
   
Heyes smiled and nodded.  
   
Beth was practically bouncing in her chair with excitement and it was only T.J.'s mild complaining that reminded her to settle down. Miranda sat back with a satisfied smile on her face; they were both about to learn just a little bit more about their respective husbands' shrouded pasts.++

“Where shall I start?” Soapy asked the group in general.  
   
“At the beginning!” Beth suggested. “How did you meet them?”  
   
Soapy sat back in his comfy arm chair and took on a reflective countenance.  
   
“Well, let me see,” he began. “As I recall I was plying my trade as an honest salesman...” Heyes and Jed both snorted. “....when I spotted two dirty, young ragamuffins lurking on the outskirts of the crowd.....”  
   
“What were you selling?” Beth asked, her eyes sparkling with this new adventure.  
   
“Soap!” answered Soapy, as though that should have been obvious. “Was making a pretty fine living at it too.”  
   
“Selling soap?” asked Beth incredulously. “Seems an awfully slow way to make a living.”  
   
“Not the way Soapy sold it,” Heyes interjected. Two enquiring looks were sent his way. Heyes smiled. “He'd take ordinary soap bars and tell the crowd that he was wrapping various different currency notes in with them, anywhere from one dollar up to twenty dollars. Then he'd charge a dollar per bar.”   
   
Miranda sat quietly waiting for the punch line that she knew was coming while Beth's jaw dropped in disbelief.  
   
“But how could you make any money doing that?” she asked. “You'd be giving away more money than you would make, even charging a dollar apiece.”  
   
“Well he didn't actually put twenties in with the soap,” Jed explained. “He just made it look like he did. He would never give away more than five one dollar bills, but he'd sell 15 to 20 bars of soap.”  
   
Beth covered her mouth with her hand in her surprise. “But that's wicked!”  
   
Soapy shrugged. “That's the game my dear.”  
   
“You'd be surprised how many people were willing to part with a dollar just for the chance to win twenty back.” Heyes informed her.  
   
“Including two ragamuffin boys who barely had a dollar between them,” Soapy commented slyly.  
   
“Well we were kinda' desperate, Soapy,” Jed reminded him. “Twenty dollars would have fed us for a month.”  
   
“But it wound up feeding you for a few years instead,” Soapy pointed out sagely.  
   
Heyes chuckled. “Yeah, it sure did.”  
   
“So you went to work for the conman,” Miranda concluded. “Did you use your natural charm and silver tongue to convince him to do that?”  
   
Heyes' smile deepened as he soaked up the praise.  
   
“Ha! Hardly!” Soapy broke the bubble. “You see, my children; I made the worst mistake any conman can make. I felt sorry for a mark. They were both such pitiful little things...”  
   
“Pitiful!?” came the unison complaint.  
   
“.....standing there and holding up their one dollar life savings for a bar of soap that they could have bought at the mercantile for five cents. No; I just couldn't do it to them. So I took them on to work for me.”  
   
“Were they any good?” asked Miranda with a wicked glint in her eye.  
   
“Of course we were good!” Jed insisted.  
   
“We were naturals!” Heyes seconded.  
   
Soapy snorted. “Hardly,” he burst another bubble. “Oh they knew how to run a pickpocket scam. They were a good team for that and Heyes' fingers were pretty nimble even then. But they didn't have it down smooth the way a professional did. They probably got chased off more often than they won the prize. I still marvel at the fact that you boys didn't get nabbed and sent back to that home for waywards. If me and Silky hadn't taken you in that's probably where you would have ended up. Or worse. The territory back then didn't have any qualms about sending boys off to prison if the homes for waywards were full.”  
   
“Yeah, I know Soapy,” Heyes agreed suddenly quite serious.  
   
“We owe you and Silky a lot,” Jed seconded.  
   
“How is that old flim-flammer?” Soapy asked. “I haven't seen that foul tempered old man in years.”  
   
“He's not that foul tempered,” Beth insisted. [Hyphen or not?]  
   
“Oh, you've met him, have you?” Soapy asked her with a twinkle.  
   
“Yes,” Beth told him. “He let us use his hunting lodge for our honeymoon. He was very nice to me.”  
   
“So the old geezer has softened some in his golden years, has he?” Soapy was incredulous.  
   
“No!” both Heyes and Jed insisted.  
   
“He just knows how to smooth-talk a pretty lady, Soapy,” Jed explained. “Just like you do.”  
   
“And this is the man you're going to take me to meet?” Miranda accused her husband.  
   
“Oh, well. He's not that bad.” Heyes quickly back-stepped.  
   
“Ha!” Jed laughed. “You're only taking Miranda to meet him because you know he'll skin ya' alive if'n ya' don't.”  
   
“Yeah, well. There is that,” Heyes agreed sheepishly.  
   
“That certainly explains why he's not married,” Miranda commented coyly. “but you haven't answered my question.”  
   
“My, but you are persistent my child,” Soapy accused her good naturedly. “but there is no real story to tell there, I'm afraid. I just never found the time.”  
   
“That sounds awfully lonely,” Miranda continued. “A fine home like this and no one to share it with.”  
   
“Oh I was never lonely my dear,” Soapy assured her. “I would often have students coming to stay here with me.”  
   
“Students?” asked Beth.  
   
“Orphans,” Heyes clarified. “Waywards, runaways, street urchins. Like us. He and Silky would often bring in promising youngsters off the street and give them a home and a bit of an education while teaching them the finer arts of the con game. This house was never lonely.”  
   
“So you see,” Soapy continued. “I had family all around me. And I still do.” he smiled over at his two proteges and then glanced down at the infant softly cooing in his mother's arms. “And it's a joy for an old man to see that the family is growing. Even Charles comes around once in a while for a visit.”  
   
Heyes instantly bristled. “Charles?” he asked. “Not Charles Morgan.”  
   
“Yes, yes,” Soapy smiled as he admired the infant. “Little Charlie. He comes around for tea. He's doing very well for himself now. Owns his own gambling house in St Louis. But he's over this way on business sometimes and when he is he comes to visit.”  
   
Miranda put a hand on her husband's arm, noting that his mood had changed.  
   
“How could you let that man into your house Soapy?” Heyes demanded. “He betrayed your trust. He betrayed me. He was instrumental...”  
   
“Yes yes, he apologized,” Soapy continued to play with T.J., totally oblivious to Heyes' distress. “I really don't know what he was talking about. But it couldn't have been all that bad as nothing really came of it. Something he had to do to avoid going to prison or something like that. Hardly blame him for that now can we?”  
   
“But I did go to prison!” Heyes shouted out. “And a lot of it was because of what he said...!”  
   
T.J.'s anxious cry stopped the ex-con in his tracks while Beth sent her cousin-in-law a reprimanding look.  
   
“Heyes...” Kid cautioned him. “Here and now is not the time.”  
   
“Come come, Heyes,” Soapy chided him. “Grudges are for people with bad stomachs. Besides,” he sent his friend a pointed look, “it is my understanding that there was a lot more to it than that.”  
   
Heyes dropped his eyes and sat swirling the sherry around in his glass. “Yeah, well....he still turned on you Soapy. You and Silky both. He wouldn't have cared if they'd come and dragged you off to prison just to save his own miserable....”  
   
“Let it go Hannibal,” Soapy told him and Heyes knew he meant it with the usage of his given name. Soapy's eyes lit up and they took on a mischievous twinkle. “Oh! You're sore over the fact that he tried to steal that young lady away from you.”  
   
“What!”  
   
“You and Miss Turner did make a lovely couple,” Soapy teased him. “and I know you were fond of her.”  
   
Heyes sent an uncomfortable glance over to his wife. Not that he had anything to feel guilty about, but Randa had already had to put up with two of his ex-girlfriends, she didn't need to have a third one thrown in her face.  
   
“We were never a couple Soapy, you know that,” Heyes reminded him. “Besides, Kid liked her too.”  
   
“Oh, yeah, thanks Heyes,” Kid looked incensed.  
   
“What?” asked Beth teasingly as she rocked her son. “Another lady who's affections you two shared?”  
   
“No!” Heyes was adamant. “It wasn't like that at all.”  
   
“My, what sordid pasts you have!” Miranda grabbed the opportunity to tease. “I'm beginning to wonder just how much you two did share. As you both have pointed out; you are partners, after all!”  
   
“Randa!” Beth tried to stifle the laugh but wasn't too successful.  
   
Heyes stared at his wife, open-mouthed and still amazed at her ability to leave him speechless.  
   
Jed rolled his eyes. “Thanks a lot there Soapy. We're never going to hear the end of this.”  
   
Soapy chuckled as he poured more sherry.  
   
“Never mind, my children,” he said to the two ladies. “I am just teasing. But Miss Turner was very lovely.”  
   
“Can we move on to something else?” Heyes asked. “Like the con that required a young girl as the hook, so you decided to put Jed in a dress because of his blue eyes and curly hair.”  
   
Two pairs of feminine eyes swivelled over to Jed. The groan was clearly audible.   
   
Xxx  
   
Dinner at the Granger's home later that evening was a welcome respite for the partners. Except that Beth and Miranda insisted on repeating all the fine details of the stories they had heard from the elderly Mr. Saunders. All three men breathed a sigh of relief when dinner was finally over and the three ladies retreated to the kitchen to wash up while Sylvie tended to the children.  
   
“So, is Mr. Saunders just as darling a gentleman as Mr. O'Sullivan is?” Bridget asked her sister.  
   
Beth laughed. “Yes!” she agreed. “Both are crusty old men on the surface. But you can tell there's a soft touch underneath. Especially where Jed and Hannibal are concerned.”  
   
“But the things those flim-flam men had them doing!” Miranda shook her head at the absurdity of it. “No wonder they're such scoundrels!”  
   
“Who?” Beth laughed. “the old flim-flam men or the two young boys?”  
   
“Both!” Miranda insisted. “Child scoundrels growing up to be adult scoundrels! They certainly did have interesting childhoods, and knew some very unusual people.”  
   
“Just wait until you meet Mr. McCreedy,” Beth cautioned her.  
   
Bridget nodded an adamant agreement. “Just don't let him scare you off.”  
   
“Another one?” Miranda was incredulous. “Don't tell me; crusty on the outside but a big softy underneath it all.”  
   
The two sisters shared a smile.  
   
“I don't think I would go quite that far,” Bridget told her. “He obviously cares for Han and Jed, I mean he wouldn't have come all the way to Wyoming for Jed's trial if he didn't. But a big softy? I don't know about that.”  
   
“No,” Beth agreed. “Jed says he's softened some since he got married, but even at that, he didn't get to be a rich and powerful landowner by being a nice guy.”  
   
“Why not?” Miranda asked. “Your father did.”  
   
The expression on the faces of both girls sparkled as love for their father shone forth.  
   
“Can't argue with that,” Bridget agreed. “But Papa's special.”  
   
“Now that I have my own child, I've come to realize even more just how special Papa is,” Beth murmured. “If T.J. grows up to be half the man Papa is then we'll have done a good job.”  
   
Bridget nodded agreement, but a hint of sadness crossed her eyes as she focused all her attention on the dishes.  
   
Miranda and Beth exchanged a look and Miranda put a hand on Bridget's arm.  
   
“What is it?” she asked her friend. “Is something wrong?”  
   
“No no,” Bridget insisted. “It's just that....I love both my daughters to pieces; they're wonderful. But I so wanted to give Steven a son. And now....”  
   
“Ohh Sweetie,” Miranda quickly moved in to give her a hug and Beth was right behind her.  
   
The three friends embraced for a moment until sniffles forced them apart to pull out handy tissues.  
   
“We so wanted a large family,” Bridget continued. “But we don't dare try again. At least Steven won't hear of it.”  
   
“And rightly so, too,” Miranda stated. “You're far too valuable to risk losing. Besides, you have two little girls who need their mama.”  
   
“YesI know,” Bridget agreed. “And David has been very helpful and supportive. Thank goodness! Steven was actually all for it, even though it's....illegal....and of course David knows we won't give him away.”  
   
Miranda raised an eyebrow. “What's illegal?”  
   
The sisters exchanged guilty looks.  
   
“Oh dear,” Beth mumbled.  
   
“You didn't know about that?” Bridget asked quietly.  
   
“About what?” Miranda was really interested now.  
   
“There's an herb a lady can take so she won't get....in the family way....” Beth explained. “Jed and I will be using it so that we can space our children out a bit. Knowing Jed, I'd be....indisposed....every year otherwise. I still want to have a life for goodness’ sake! But for Maribelle and now, Bridget who can't take the risk of it happening again, well they can take this herb and still be able to....you know....without fear.”  
   
The two other ladies smiled at Beth's shy attempt at describing this new wonder drug. Then Miranda took the wind right out of her sails.  
   
“Oh you mean like a pessary,” Miranda piped up.  
   
“A what?” both sisters asked.  
   
“A pessary,” Miranda repeated. “It's not a herb or drug or anything. It's a simple device you can put in there and it prevents pregnancy.”  
   
“Oh,” Beth looked crestfallen.  
   
“You know about this?” asked Bridget.  
   
“Oh yes,” Miranda informed them. “Many society ladies use them, not wanting to curtail their party time with inconvenient children. Most of their husbands are none the wiser.”  
   
“So, you planned on...?” Beth asked hesitantly.  
   
“No,” Miranda admitted. “To be quite honest I never even considered the possibility. As you know, William and I never had any children. When we first married, I was so young and naive, I'd never even heard of anything like this. I mean, of course—we weren't suppose to hear about such things were we? It's amazing what money can buy. Those wealthy society ladies found ways, believe me. By the time I realized these methods were available, well I'd already been married a number of years and nothing had happened anyway. I was convinced by then that I couldn't have children and William was never that keen on having them anyway, so....Believe me; this pregnancy was just as much a surprise for me as it was for Hannibal. Actually, more so! At least Hannibal knew he was capable! So you see; this is all his fault!”  
   
The three ladies broke up laughing.  
   
“Yes!” Bridget agreed.  
   
“Of course it is!”  
   
xxx  
   
Out in the sitting room the three men were chatting over their glasses of brandy. Laughter from the kitchen stopped their conversation and they all glanced over in that direction.  
   
“I never would have thought that doing the dishes could be that much fun,” Steven stated.  
   
“They do turn it into a social event, don't they?” Hannibal observed.   
   
“The Jordan ladies seem to have a knack for that,” Jed contributed.  
   
“How is Bridget doing?” Hannibal asked. “She seems in good spirits.”  
   
Steven smiled. “Oh she is. I don't know how she does it; even with both deliveries being difficult she rallies quickly and just loves the girls. Still, I know she's disappointed that this is it.”  
   
Heyes and Jed exchanged a quiet look and Kid shrugged.  
   
“Well, you know,” Heyes began tentatively. “There are other options. Adopting Sally was one of the best things me and Miranda did. That child still amazes me. Have you ever considered....?”  
   
“Yes,” Steven admitted with a little laugh. “We talked about it briefly. It's still a little too soon for both of us to seriously consider it for right now.”  
   
“Oh, of course,” Heyes agreed. “Things need time to settle down. At least you're willing to consider it.”  
   
“I know Beth and I discussed it even before we were married,” Jed told them. “I kinda' knew it was somethin' I'd wanna do. Kinda' givin' somethin' back, you know. Those young'uns have things way better than Heyes and I did, but still it's not the greatest way to grow up. Once T.J.'s a little older we're gonna look into it.”  
   
“What about you Hannibal?” Steven asked. “Are you going to adopt any more?”  
   
“Oh!” Heyes looked befuddled. “I hadn't really thought about that. We've been so preoccupied with what's already going on, it never really occurred to us. I donno. You two seem all determined to have large families but I think me and Miranda will be quite happy with just the two. Still, you got me thinking about it now. We'll see. Maybe after the baby arrives we might consider adopting an older child. I recall Sister Julia saying it was harder to find homes for the older children. So—maybe. We'll see.”  
   
“Well,” Steven got up to pour another round of brandy. “We all know what Hannibal and Miranda are going to be doing for the next month or so. What about you Jed?”  
   
Jed rolled his eyes and groaned.   
   
“I've got a wedding to attend, remember?”  
   
“Oh yeah.”  
   
Heyes grinned wickedly. “How are the plans going for the bachelor party?”  
   
Jed sent his partner a pained looked. “Slow. God's honest truth; Harry does not have any friends. Are you sure you won't be back in time Heyes?”  
   
“Positive. Harry has known for some time that I would be out of town. If he really wanted me there he could have changed the date.”  
   
“Great.”  
   
“You already invited me to the party,” Steven pointed out. “and I certainly intend to show, even if it's just to help beef it up a bit.”  
   
“What about David? And Jesse?” Heyes suggested. “They all know Harry.”  
   
“They're already comin'. I hope,” Jed mused. “I've tried gettin' hold 'a some of the fellas at the detective agency. I was hopin' there would be at least some who have enough regard for Harry to show up at his party. I ain't heard back from any of 'em yet.”  
   
Heyes chuckled.  
   
“What?”  
   
“Oh nothing,” Heyes lied. “Alright. I'm just picturing you walking into the Bannerman Detective Agency and actually trying to get their attention.”  
   
Jed looked irritated at first and then couldn't help the smile tug at his lips followed by an agreeing chuckle and nod.  
   
“It was kinda' a change from the norm,” he admitted. He sighed and turned serious again. “I'm not looking forward to this at all.”  
   
“Aw it'll be alright,” Heyes shrugged it off. “Get Harry drunk enough and he won't remember who was there anyway.”  
   
“Yeah, I suppose,” Jed mumbled.   
   
The conversation was interrupted then by Rosie accompanied by her mother coming in to say goodnight.  
   
“There's my little girl!” Steven beamed. “All ready for bed?”  
   
Rosie giggled and toddled over to her father with arms outstretched, wanting her goodnight hug. Steven willingly accommodated her. He picked her up in his arms and hugged and kissed her as she snuggled in and hugged him around the neck.  
   
“There you go. Goodnight sweetheart.”  
   
“'e nit,” came the attempt at the word.  
   
“Are you going to say goodnight to your uncles?”  
   
Rosie looked over at the other people in the room and suddenly turned shy. She rubbed her fists into her sleepy eyes and then reached out for her mother.  
   
“Oh come on then, you silly little thing,” Bridget said as she scooped the child up from her husbands lap. She smiled apologetically over to her friends. “She is more of a morning girl. She's far more likely to say 'good morning' than 'good night'.”  
   
“That's fine Bridget,” Jed assured her. “Goodnight Rosie.”  
   
“Goodnight Rosie.”  
   
Rosie rubbed her eyes again and hid her face in the nap of her mother's neck. Bridget smiled and rolled her eyes before she turned and took the little one off to bed.  
   
Half an hour later all three of the children were settled into bed and the adults settled in for a quiet visit along with tea and cake before darkness everyone called it a night.  
   
“You'll do fine,” Heyes was saying as they carried on with the conversation concerning Harry and Isabelle's upcoming wedding.   
   
“I just wish he could'a found somebody else to be his best man.” Jed continued to gripe. “What am I supposed to say at the reception? 'Here's to Harry. Thanks goodness he was such a lousy detective'?”  
   
“Oh come on,” Beth chided him. “Why are you two always so mean to him? Even that Christmas in Kansas. He was doing so much to help out and you two were constantly on his case about something.”  
   
“Not constantly,” Heyes protested.  
   
“Yeah,” Jed agreed with his cousin. “we were nice to him over Christmas.”  
   
“You call that nice?” Beth countered. “It was almost embarrassing.”  
   
“Aw, Harry doesn't mind,” Heyes assured her. “He knows we're just teasing him.”  
   
“And it's not like he don't deserve it,” Jed pointed out. “I don't think Harry knows how to handle havin' a friend.”  
   
“Probably because he's never had any,” Heyes pointed out.  
   
“There you go again,” Beth pointed out. “That's mean.”  
   
“That is a bit harsh,” Miranda agreed. “Why do you treat him like that?”  
   
Heyes and Jed exchanged a quick look and both became a little more serious.  
   
“Harry isn't quite the loyal 'best friend' he tries to come across as,” Heyes explained.  
   
“Yeah,” Jed continued. “He'll back ya' up until somethin' better comes along. Then he don't mind turnin' on ya'.”  
   
“Hmm,” Heyes reflected. “I seem to recall waking up and finding myself staring up the barrel of a rifle pointed at my head. I tell you, a strong cup of morning coffee won't get your heart beating faster than that wake up call.”  
   
“He actually pointed a rifle at you?” Bridget asked, suddenly concerned.  
   
“Yep,” Heyes nodded. “While I was asleep.”  
   
“Tied us up too,” Jed added.  
   
“Mm hmm,” Heyes nodded again. “Left us out in the desert twice, almost three times.”  
   
“Well, the third time he did actually come through with the horses,” Jed explained. “But even then it was only because it was to his own advantage.”  
   
Another nod from the partner. “The only reason that man never turned us in for the reward, well he can't now anyways. But why he never did before is because we were the ones who were always getting HIM out of trouble.”  
   
“He wasn't even a good enough detective to do the right thing,” Jed told them. “so whenever he'd get the bright idea to do the wrong thing, that's when he'd really mess it up.”  
   
“Well if he's such an awful person,” Miranda asked. “why do you keep him around?”  
   
Another glance was exchanged between the partners.   
   
“I guess he does kind of grow on ya'.” Heyes ventured.  
   
“Yeah,” Kid agreed. “and he has come in handy on occasion. I mean, as long as you know he's inept, you can kinda' work around it and then he does alright.”  
   
“That brings up another interesting question,” Miranda pointed out. “If he doesn't understand loyalty then what are the chances that he'll be faithful in his marriage? I mean we all kind of laugh that Isabelle is getting what she deserves, but does she deserve that?”  
   
A humorous glance between the partners this time.  
   
“I don't think Isabelle has anything to worry about there,” Jed commented.  
   
“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “Harry's gonna be so thankful that he actually found a woman who would marry him, I doubt he'll stray too far from home.”  
   
“He might visit the brothel once in a while,” Jed ventured. “but that ain't really cheatin'.”  
   
“What!?”  
   
“What!?”  
   
“WHAT!?”  
   
“What?” asked Jed.  
   
Heyes sent his partner a bewildered look. Steven groaned and sat back to watch how his brother-in-law got himself out of this one.  
   
“What do you mean 'that's not really cheating'?” Bridget demanded.   
   
“Didn't you promise me that you would never step into a brothel again?” Beth asked, but there was a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she took perverse pleasure in watching her husband squirm.  
   
“Yeah, of course I did!” Jed agreed. “And I haven't. I'd never do that....well no, I guess I have done that, but not to you. I wouldn't do that now....I mean...c'mon Heyes! Help me out here!”  
   
Heyes had been busy trying to swallow a laugh and now he turned large innocent eyes to his partner and shook his head. “Ohh, you got yourself into this one.”  
   
“Aww c'mon!” Jed was actually getting mad. “You know darn well I would never do that. I was just talkin'. Can't a fella just talk?”  
   
Everybody broke out laughing and Heyes gave his partner a slap on the shoulder. “You're a married man now Jed,” he teased. “Can't go around 'just talking'!”  
   
“Oh it's alright,” Beth assured him through her chuckles. “we were just teasing you.”   
   
“But still,” Miranda turned serious again. “do you really think Harry would...?”  
   
“Well, you can never really know,” Heyes contemplated. “but I don't think so.”  
   
“Naw,” Jed agreed. “Like we were sayin'; he's just gonna be so tickled to have a woman actually marry 'im, he ain't gonna do no strayin'.”  
   
“I certainly hope you're right,” Miranda commented. “Isabelle is many things, but she doesn't deserve that.”  
   
“So, Miranda,” Beth was almost giggling in her own excitement. “You must be getting so excited about your trip. Santa Marta sounds like such a beautiful town.”  
   
Miranda's eyes sparkled. “Yes. I'm hardly going to sleep tonight. We will be stopping at so many different places; it's hard to know which to look forward to the most.”  
   
“When does your train leave?” Bridget asked as she poured more tea.  
   
“Ten o'clock tomorrow morning,” Heyes answered. “We have a nice little roomette booked all the way to San Francisco and we'll stay with Silky for a couple of days. Then another train ride down to Yuma where we'll meet up with the special stage that leaves from there and goes directly down to Santa Marta. I'm hoping we can spend a week there. Then we'll take the coach back to Yuma and cut across through Arizona, New Mexico and then Texas. We'll probably stay in Red Rock for a few days at least as I'm sure we'll both be a little travel weary by then. After that is the leg home, up into Colorado. I think we'll by-pass Kansas.”  
   
Jed snorted and nodded. “Yeah, I think we've seen enough of Kansas for a while.”   
   
“It just sounds so romantic,” Beth declared. “I hope we get there one day.”  
   
“Don't worry about that, Beth darlin',” Jed assured her. “I'll get ya' down there. The two times Heyes and I were there didn't exactly turn out to be a vacation.”  
   
“Twice?” asked Steven. “I thought you were only there once before when you ran into that rather unfortunate business with the Alcalde.”  
   
“Ah, no,” Heyes sighed. “we've been there twice. The second time Jed and I actually had enough money to live there awhile and we kind of hoped to stay until things cooled off in the States. But as usual things didn't quite work out that way.”  
   
“Yep,” Jed agreed. “Now, the Alcalde didn't know who we were the first time we were there, but he sure found out about it the second time.”  
   
“What?” asked Bridget. “How?”  
   
“Well there had been this bounty hunter hot on our trail,” Heyes explained. “We thought we'd lost him but he followed us down there, took us by surprise and handed us over to the Alcalde.”  
   
“You know, I gotta hand it to Senor Cordoba,” Jed reminisced. “he seemed disappointed to find out who we really were.”  
   
“Hmm,” Heyes wasn't quite as impressed. “Probably made him feel bad that he'd let us slip right through his fingers the first time.”  
   
“How did you get away from him?” Steven asked. “From what you have told me of the man, he sounds like a competent officer. Hardly one you could easily dupe.”  
   
Heyes and Jed flashed smiles at each other.  
   
“Gotta hand it to Clementine!” Jed laughed.   
   
“Yep,” Heyes agreed. “Now there's a lady....”  
   
“Clementine?” asked Beth. “What does she have to do with this?”  
   
“Oh!” Heyes sat up a little straighter. “Ah, we kind of thought it would look a little suspicious, you know; two single men coming down to Mexico to live in a villa all on their own for a year.”  
   
“Yeah,” Jed smiled sheepishly. “You know, wouldn't want people to talk.”  
   
“Yeah so we decided to take Clementine along with us,” Heyes explained, suddenly realizing how inappropriate that whole arrangement would now appear. “So, she agreed to 'pretend' to be married to one of us. You know; to make it look....respectable.”  
   
Four sets of eyes were staring at them, tea cups poised mid-way between saucer and lips.  
   
“You know; just pretending!” Heyes assured them all. “We all had separate rooms. Nothing actually happened.”  
   
“Well,” Jed mumbled. “I wouldn't say 'nothin'.”  
   
Five sets of eyes swivelled over to Jed.  
   
“What's that suppose to mean?” Heyes asked suspiciously.  
   
“Well ya' know Heyes,” Jed explained. “we had to make it look and feel authentic.”  
   
“What!” Heyes was incredulous. “You were mad at her the whole time we were there!”  
   
“Why do ya' think I was mad at her?” Jed demanded in his own defence . “There we were pretendin' to be husband and wife and she's makin' eyes at the Alcalde! It was embarrassin'--and insultin'!”  
   
“Sounds to me like you were doing more than just 'pretending',” Heyes grumbled.  
   
“Yes,” Beth agreed pointedly.  
   
“Aww c'mon, Beth darlin'. It was years ago,” Jed assured her. “You know I'd never....”  
   
“Oh I know,” Beth laughed it aside. “I'm still just teasing you. My, but you're sensitive on that topic. I've suspected ever since my wedding shower that you and Clem had been more than just friends. I also know that before we were courting you had your fair share of...experience.”  
   
“I'd say it was more than his fair share,” Heyes grumbled again, still feeling in a snit.  
   
“Hannibal,” Beth sent him a reprimanding look. “I happen to like Clementine and the images this conversation is putting in my mind are ones I would gladly do without. Let's move on, shall we?”  
   
Heyes had the good graces to look contrite and an awkward silence settled over the room. Miranda smiled and picked up the conversation at a safe juncture.  
   
“So how did Clementine help you to get away?” she asked curiously.  
   
“Oh well,” Heyes warmed to the topic again. “Clem knew that the Alcalde was smitten with her and she used it to her full advantage. She told him all about our bid for amnesty and how we hadn't done anything illegal in three years, not that the law knew about anyways. She just batted her eyelashes at him and actually convinced him to let us go.”  
   
“Oh my goodness!” Steven was incredulous. “Just like that? A high ranking, very much respected official of a luxury resort town just let two known apparently notorious outlaws escape from his custody simply because Clementine batted her eyelashes at him?”  
   
“No,” Jed reluctantly admitted. “that's not quite....”  
   
“No, it took a little more....” Heyes added.  
   
Silence again as the audience waited for the rest of the story to come forth.  
   
“Ahh...” Heyes and Jed exchanged a quick look.   
   
“We sorta gave him money...” Jed explained.   
   
“So the town could build a new schoolhouse,” Heyes finished.  
   
“A new schoolhouse?” Steven questioned. “A wealthy town like that couldn't afford to build their own schoolhouse?”  
   
“This was a really nice, top of the line schoolhouse,” Heyes assured him.  
   
“Yeah,” Jed seconded. “One of the best schoolhouses I've ever seen.”  
   
“You've seen it?” Steven asked.  
   
“Well, actually no,” Heyes admitted. “That's one reason we're going down there. To see the schoolhouse that Jed and I paid to have built.”  
   
“Really?” commented Miranda.  
   
“Well...”  
   
“And how much did this top of the line schoolhouse cost to build?” Steven continued to push the point.  
   
“Well we didn't actually pay for the whole thing,” Jed explained. “It was already under construction when we...”  
   
“How much?” Steven asked again.  
   
“Four thousand dollars,” Heyes told him.  
   
“He took a four thousand dollar bribe just because Clementine batted her eyelashes at him?”  
   
“No!” Heyes insisted. “It wasn't a bribe!”  
   
“It was a...donation.”  
   
“Donation.”  
   
“A donation?” Steven asked for conformation. He sat back in his chair shaking his head and chuckling. “It's amazing. You two head down to Mexico, taking a single woman along with you in order to pretend to be respectable when in fact you were being anything but. You then get arrested and thrown in jail but your pretend wife who was actually more interested in the Alcalde than she was in her 'husband' convinces him to let you both go free in exchange for a four thousand dollar 'donation'. Have I got that right?”  
   
“Not quite,” Heyes told him.  
   
Steven and the three ladies broke out laughing.  
   
“Not quite?” Miranda asked incredulously. “How much more can there possibly be?”  
   
“Ah well....” Jed explained. “as a penance for accepting the donation for the new schoolhouse, Senor Cordoba did not pursue a relationship with Clementine.”  
   
“Though I'm sure Clementine would have appreciated it if he had,” Heyes added.  
   
“Uh huh,” Jed agreed.  
   
“So this is the bed of intrigue you're going to be walking me into?” Miranda asked.  
   
“Well, I wouldn't go so far...”  
   
Miranda laughed and clapped her hands. “Ha ha! I love it!”  
   
“You do?” Heyes asked hopefully.  
   
“This honeymoon is going to turn out even better than I thought!”   
   
   
The following morning found the Heyes' and Curry's standing on the platform at the train station. This busy station was bustling with soon to be passengers making sure tickets were in order and luggage was being appropriately handled by porters as they readied to board the train themselves. Excited children ran amok as parents tried in vain to keep them in check only to have them slip their hobbles and gallop off again in youthful exuberance.   
   
Five cars down from the platform, the large engine sat humming like a predator waiting in ambush while the last minute preparations got completed. Fifteen minutes before departure time the whistle sounded long and loud and a new level of excitement and hustle took over the passengers as everyone said their final goodbyes.  
   
“Well that's it,” Heyes announced somewhat needlessly. “Time to get on board.”  
   
Miranda smiled as she held her husband's arm and gave it an extra squeeze.  
   
“I'm so excited!” she admitted with a sparkle dancing in her eyes. “I've been on train rides before but this is going to be so much fun.”  
   
“I envy you,” Beth gushed as she leaned in and gave her cousin-in-law an exuberant hug. “You're going to be seeing so much and I know Mr. O'Sullivan will treat you like royalty.”  
   
Heyes and Jed exchanged smiles over that comment, then shook hands in farewell.  
   
“Say 'hi' to Silky for me,” Kid said. “Let him know how things are going.”  
   
“Oh yes,” Heyes agreed.   
   
“And Senor Cordoba and Big Mac and anybody else you might run into who we know.”  
   
Heyes grinned. “Yes I will. Keep an eye on the horses for me.”  
   
“Of course we will!” Beth exclaimed, almost insulted that Hannibal felt the need to remind them. “Karma must already be having the time of her life, getting to spend some time with her daughter.”  
   
Heyes laughed. “She's going to get fat and lazy out there on Double J grass again.”

“Keep an eye on Sally too,” Miranda asked them. “Make sure she doesn't run Belle into the ground.”

“I expect she and J.J. will be so busy ridin' around the ranch, Belle is hardly ever going to see her,” Jed assured her. “don't worry about her.”

“I'm not worried,” Randa insisted. “Just, keep an eye....”

“Don't worry,” Beth smiled and gave Randa's arm a squeeze. “We'll watch out for her.”  
   
“She'll be fine Heyes,” Kid commented. “Stop worryin' about her.”  
   
“Time to get aboard folks,” came the prodding from a porter making the rounds. “Train's pulling out in five minutes.”  
   
“Oh, yes.” Heyes agreed.  
   
“Here we go,” Miranda laughed. “Wouldn't do to miss the train when we're standing right here.”  
   
“No,” her husband agreed. “Okay Jed, Beth. We'll keep in touch.”  
   
“Bye. Have fun!”  
   
“We'll see ya' in a month Heyes.”  
   
   
Once on board the train, Hannibal and Miranda followed the porter down the isle and through the connecters from one car to the next. This was all new to Heyes; being treated like somebody special, but in a good way. They entered and passed through the regular passenger cars, doing their best to avoid bumping into people who were storing personal luggage or trying to lasso wild children. This was what train riding usually meant to Heyes. Get on board as quickly as you can and get a seat before all the good ones were taken and then hope that you didn't end up with an annoying neighbour.  
   
But this time they had an escort and even better; one who wasn't carrying a rifle. The porter took them across another covered walkway through to the next car and here the decor changed dramatically. Instead of the isle running down the center with rows of seats on either side, the isle was to the right of the car and the left was a solid wall with two doors at each end. The porter led them past the first door and with a key, opened the second one. He leaned inside to place their personal bags on the floor and then stepped aside to invite them in.  
   
Miranda stepped in first and smiled with familiarity. She was accustomed to travelling in this fashion, but again; this was all very new to the ex-outlaw. He tried not to show his childish delight at the comfortable roomette that he found himself in. His poker face came on and he turned to the porter while taking out his wallet and handing the good man a more than reasonable tip; Heyes was planning on a very enjoyable train ride.  
   
The porter smiled as he saw the amount and bowed his head appreciatively as he accepted it.  
   
“Thank you sir,” he said. “My name is George and I will make sure your time spent on board is a pleasurable one.”  
   
“Thank you,” Heyes agreed. “I'm counting on it.”  
   
Three more loud whistles from the engine gave warning that the train was moving out and with a shriek of delight Miranda scurried over to the window to wave 'goodbye' to their friends. Heyes and the porter exchanged smiles as the train gave a mild jerk and they were on the roll.  
   
“Please let me know if there is anything else you require.”   
   
Heyes nodded agreement and George backed out of the room and closed the door, leaving the couple alone. Only then did Heyes allow his countenance to express his true emotions as a grin took over his face and the dimples did the rest.  
   
“I can't believe this room,” he announced. “All this time I thought it was just the owners of the railroad who travelled like this.” His eyes lit on the cherry wood table situated by the center window and bracketed by two comfortable looking arm chairs. “They even gave us chilled wine and a cheese plate—and flowers!'  
   
Miranda smiled with pleasure at her husband's excitement over this new experience.  
   
“A little different than riding coach, isn't it?” she asked him.  
   
“I'll say,” Heyes agreed. Then he frowned as he looked around even more. “But where do we sleep? Are the chairs it?”  
   
“No!” Miranda laughed. “See that handle there on the end wall? The porter will come in this evening and pull down the bed. It saves room not having the bed down and ready when we're not using it.”  
   
“But how does he know when we're not using it?” her husband asked with a wicked grin as he moved in to encircle his wife's waist with his arms. “I must admit; one of the few things I've never done on a moving train was make love to my travelling companion.”  
   
Miranda laughed as she gave him a cheeky slap. “I doubt very much that your previous travelling companion would have appreciated it!”  
   
“Hmm,” Heyes murmured as he leaned in for a kiss. “Probably not.”  
 


	2. Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jed and Beth settle into their new home   
> An old acquaintance of Heyes' drops by--and no, it's not another girlfriend  
> Harry's bachelor party takes off  
> A new threat comes to Brookswood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some nudity and sexual innuendo

Expectations  
   
   
Gov came trotting down the dirt road towards the little cabin, easily pulling the two wheeled trap with its occupants along behind him. He knew the way here as he and his human had come for visits on numerous occasions and hardly needed the guidance from the lines to tell him where he needed to pull up at journey's end.  
   
Jed applied the brake and wrapping the lines around the handle he stepped down and came around to help his wife disembark safely. He normally would not have coddled her so, knowing that she found his overly chivalrous behavior just a little condescending at times. But today was different. Beth was tired from their journey and young Thaddeus had been restless and cranky since they had left the Jordan household.  
   
Jed took Thaddeus into his arms and extended a hand to his wife to assist her in stepping down. She gladly accepted it and with a sigh of relief she finally felt firm ground under her feet and her own home greeting their arrival.  
   
“Oh it's good to be home,” she admitted with a smile and took a fussing T.J. back into her own arms. “He's just tired and hungry. I'll feed him and put him down for a nap while you get the horses settled.”  
   
“Alright,” Jed agreed. “I sure am glad your Ma fixed us up with a cold supper; I wouldn't fancy putting the stove on now.”  
   
“Oh, you've got that right,” Beth adamantly agreed as she headed up the steps. “I bet she even left some lemonade or iced tea in the ice box.”  
   
Jed was half way to Gov's head when he stopped in his tracks and turned back to his wife.  
   
“Wait!”  
   
Beth stopped on the porch and quickly turned around thinking that some disaster had taken place. Her eyes widened in surprise as Jed hurried towards her and bounded up the steps.  
   
“You can't go in!” he declared. “Wait a minute,”  
   
“What...?”  
   
Jed grinned and scooped his wife, with his son up into his arms.  
   
“This is the first time coming into our home now that it's completed,” Jed explained. “It's traditional that a man carry his wife over the threshold.”  
   
Despite her weariness Beth giggled and let her man have his way. Jed approached the door and realized his first problem. He came to a halt to contemplate the dilemma.  
   
“What's the problem?” Beth asked even though she knew full well what was hindering their way.  
   
“Ahh, could you open the door?”  
   
“My hands are full.”  
   
“In case ya' hadn't noticed; so are mine.”  
   
“You started this.”  
   
Jed gave a mock sigh of exasperation and trying to shift his right hand out from under his burden, he leaned down and searched for the door handle.  
   
“Ow!” Beth complained as the side of her head made contact with the door frame.  
   
“Sorry.”  
   
Jed grabbed the knob and gave it a twist. The door swung inwards and with a triumphant smile the proud husband and father stepped across the threshold.  
   
“Ow!” Beth complained again as her ankle whacked into the opposite door frame. Then she started to laugh. “You're not being very graceful about this.”  
   
“Sorry,” Jed said again. “We should have made this door wider.”  
   
“Ow! My elbow!”  
   
Jed would have apologized again but he broke out laughing instead.  
   
“Welcome to our new home, Darlin'.”  
   
“Are you sure its safe?” Beth teased him. “We could always go out and try again. You know what they say about practice.”  
   
“I think once was enough.”  
   
“Well, if you're satisfied....”  
   
The two parents stopped talking and stood looking around their new home. Belle had been back while the young people had been in Denver. There were fresh flowers in a vase on the kitchen table along with one of the family's embroidered table cloths. There were more pictures on the walls along with more dishes and cookware laid out on the counter top for them to sort through.  
   
“Oh trust Mama to add some more finishing touches,” Beth exclaimed with obvious love. “She's really helped to make this into a lovely home for us.”  
   
“She sure has,” Jed agreed. “And ain't that fresh baking I'm smellin'?”  
   
“Nothing wrong with your nose.”  
   
“When did she have time to do that?”  
   
“When does she have time to do anything?” Beth asked. “I'm certain there must be two of her—both of them with eyes in the back of their heads.”  
   
Jed nodded agreement. He smiled down at his wife and leaned in for a kiss. Suddenly T.J. let loose with such a wailing of complaint that both parents jumped and their attentions were diverted.  
   
“Oh dear,” Beth complained. “So much for him settling.”  
   
“Oh well,” Jed sighed as he set his wife down on her own feet. “I guess he's just as hot and tired as we are. Back to our first plan.”  
   
Jed stepped outside again and walking to the back of the buggy he untied Daisy, Karma and Percy. Leading them up to the front of the buggy he released the brake and headed towards the barn. Gov didn't need an invitation and joining up with the small procession they all sauntered over to their new home, with all equine eyes already inspecting the large new paddock. As with everything else, the grass was quite dry and not very plentiful, but Jed would throw them all enough hay to keep them happy until dinner time. 

Inside the house Beth settled a complaining Thaddeus into the bassinet by the table. She stripped all his clothing and then pumped water into a wash basin. Both of them needed a sponging off before anything else happened and despite T.J. insisting he wanted to eat first, his mother won out by giving him a quick bath. Once that was done she peeled off her own light frock and removed the top half of her bloomers She breathed a sigh of relief as she gave herself the same cooling treatment as she had just given her son and instantly felt rejuvenated . After a quick drying off, she picked her son up and taking him into the nursery she gratefully sank down into the cushioned rocking chair and offered the infant a nipple.  
   
He latched on and instantly began to suckle. Beth closed her eyes and with a contented sigh, sank deeper into the cushions. With something better to do with his mouth now, T.J. quieted down and the chair gently began to rock. Forty minutes later when a bare chested and dripping wet Jed padded quietly into the nursery, that was how he found them; sound asleep in the rocking chair.  
   
Jed gave both his loves a gentle kiss and quietly returning to the kitchen he rummaged through the basket of food and made himself a sandwich. He went outdoors, settled himself into one of the rocking chairs on the porch and proceeded to take care of his hunger. He smiled as he chewed, looking out over this homestead that was now his.  
   
It wasn't much, but it was a kingdom to him and it was a whole lot more than he'd ever imagined himself having. A wife, a son and a place to call his own. He sat and rocked quietly back and forth as he surveyed her surroundings. The four horses were out on the brown grass contentedly munching the hay and checking out the sparse vegetation. Sometimes for horses, just the act of grazing will calm them and give them a sense of safety and camaraderie. The fact that they weren't getting much nutrition out of it was totally irrelevant. Jed would go out and throw them more hay once the heat of the day eased off.  
   
Thoughts then turned to Harry and Isabelle's wedding. He groaned slightly but shook it off, knowing that bemoaning this new 'honor' was more of a habit than a true expression of his feelings on the matter. He was actually looking forward to helping Harry on his way to married bliss. He was, after all, a friend. A dubious one for sure, but still a friend who, now that a reckoning over the years could be taken, had proved himself to be more for them than he was against them and that had to count for something.  
   
He was already missing Heyes though. He wished Harry had set the date for later in the Fall so that Hannibal and Miranda could have been home for the nuptials. For one thing, it would have taken some of the pressure off Jed to organize the bachelor party and stand up as best man. Still, he had put something together for Heyes with a bit of help from David, so surely he could do the same again. Thank goodness Steven had already offered to help out and between all their mutual friends a respectful gathering could be counted on.  
   
The fact Jed hadn't been able to get much response from the Bannerman Detective Agency hadn't really surprised him. Harry wasn't exactly the most popular employee over at that establishment. But that just might work to Jed and Hannibal's advantage. The less Harry was needed at Bannerman's, the more available he would be to them for the more mundane tasks of running a detective agency.  
   
Jed smiled again as he munched another mouthful of chicken sandwich. Life was pretty good alright. He was a happy man.  
   
A soft fluttering from behind him caught his attention and he turned as Beth came into view. She was still only wearing the lower half of her bloomers and her full round breasts peaked at him from behind the dubious shelter of her long blond hair. Jed smiled and taking her by the hand brought her around to settle down on his lap. She nestled in against his bare chest and sighed contentedly as his arms wrapped lightly around her.   
   
“You should have awakened me,” she told him. “I could have made you more than just as sandwich.”  
   
“I know,” Jed agreed as he rocked both of them in a gentle rhythm. “I didn't wanna disturb ya'—you both looked so peaceful. Are ya' hungry?”  
   
“Hmm,” Beth nodded. “a little. But I can wait until things cool off.”  
   
“I'm thinkin' things are startin' ta' heat up rather than cool off,” Jed observed, the feel of her warm breast pressing into his chest causing him no end of distraction.   
   
She smiled and reaching up, caressed his cheek.   
   
“Well what did you think I was referring to?” she whispered to him.  
   
They both started to chuckle, and tightening his hold around her body, Jed leaned in for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and returned it whole-heartedly as arousal took hold.  
   
An infant's loud, demanding wail broke in upon their love-making and both parents groaned and sighed in disappointment. Jed loosened his hold while Beth quickly brought her hands up to cover her nipples.  
   
“Oh dear,” she complained. “I've sprung a leak. Here I was worried I wouldn't have enough milk for him and now I've got so much it won't stay in.”  
   
“Well I'm sure he'll know what to do with that,” Jed commented with a grin as his wife struggled to stand up without putting pressure on her husband's one vulnerable area of the moment.  
   
“Yes!” she agreed with an emphatic sigh. “He has his father's appetite for sure.”  
   
The crying inside the nursery intensified and a sense of urgency took over the previously peaceful front porch.  
   
“Welcome to parenthood,” Beth commented as she found her feet. “It's always time for another feeding.”  
   
“I suppose so,” Jed agreed. “I'll come in and make you a sandwich. Perhaps when he's settled for the night we can pick up where we left off.”  
   
Beth yawned as she headed indoors. “Yes, perhaps.”   
   
xxx  
   
“Hey Kid!”  
   
Jed stopped in his tracks and turned at the familiar voice.  
   
“Harry!” Jed returned the greeting “When did you get to town?”  
   
“Oh this morning,” Harry told him. “I'm staying at the hotel for now. You know, must keep up appearances and all that. Especially here.”  
   
“Ah ha,” Jed grinned. “Isabelle's two brothers keepin' an eye on ya'?”  
   
“Yeah!” Harry puffed up with indignation. “It's like they think I have no morals—like I don't respect their sister. Can you imagine?”  
   
“Yeah well, that's brothers for ya'.”  
   
“Yeah!” Harry grabbed the lapels of his suit and gave them an indignant tug as he straightened up and huffed. “Why I would never try to force sweet Isabelle into doing anything she didn't want to do—oh damn, here she comes!”  
   
Jed turned around again to see the intended trotting across the street and waving her petite lace hanky.  
   
“Harry!” came her sweet feminine voice. “Why didn't you tell me you were in town?”  
   
Jed was about to greet the young lady when he felt Harry shift up behind him almost as though he were hiding. His brows creased but his lips smiled at the same time as he deftly stepped out from in front of the groom.  
   
“Oh!” Harry quickly straightened up and put on his best airs. “Why, hello Isabelle, my sweet. Ha ha, Why, I just arrived in town this moment and was on my way to....”  
   
Isabelle rushed past Jed and flung her arms around her intended. Harry made a quick grab for his fedora.  
   
“Oh, I have missed you so much my darling!” Isabelle gushed and giving a flirty smile she leaned in to him. “I can hardly wait for our wedding night.”  
   
“Oh, ha ha. Now darlin' you shouldn't talk like that in front of company.”  
   
“Company?” Isabelle sent a dismissive glance over to Jed. “Oh, he doesn't mind! Do you, Jed?”  
   
Jed smiled and shook his head as he watched the comedic opera play out before him. “No ma'am. Don't mind at all.”  
   
Harry sent him a glare just as Isabelle encircled his throat and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Ladies passing by on the sidewalk gasped their indignation and quickly stepped onto the street to go around them. Harry took hold of his fiancee's arms and gently pushed her away.  
   
“Oh now darlin', we must be strong you know,” Harry reminded her with a nervous chuckle. “It's really not that far off now.”  
   
“I know,” Isabelle pouted, then leaned in again and whispered in his ear so Jed really wouldn't hear this time. “but don't you have your hotel room yet?”  
   
“Well I, well yes but....”  
   
“Hey!”  
   
Everyone jumped as their entertainment was interrupted. Jed grinned even more. Harry breathed a sigh of relief while Isabelle groaned and almost stamped her foot.  
   
“Oh for goodness sake!” she complained as two hefty young men put in an appearance. “Why can't you two just leave me alone?”  
   
“Cause Pa told us ta' watch out fer you!” said the older of the two. “We can't have ya' talked inta' doin' somethin' that ain't proper this close to yer weddin' day!”  
   
“Yeah,” seconded the other, “we know what men is like.” and he sent a warning scowl over to Harry.  
   
Harry straightened up again and tugged at his lapels. “I assure you I would never dream of...”  
   
“Yeah yeah,” complained the older as he grabbed his sister’s arm. “Save it for the weddin' night.”  
   
“Hey!” Isabelle complained as her brother dragged her off. “You leave me alone Emmett Baird. You got no right to go and...hey!”  
   
Seth grabbed hold of her other arm and assisted his brother at breaking the couple apart.  
   
“Come on, Isabelle,” Seth told her. “You know Pa wants you home until yer married. He don't want nothin' to get in the way of this weddin'!”  
   
“Nothing is going to get in the way of it!” Isabelle declared as she was being unceremoniously dragged off. “Harry! Do something!”  
   
“I'm sorry my little peach!” Harry called after her. “If it was up to me I wouldn't stand for this! But your Pa has the last say in matters such as this.”  
   
“But, but Harry....!”  
   
“I'll see you for dinner out at your folks place tomorrow my dear!”  
   
As Isabelle was being herded back home, Harry slumped in relief and let loose a huge sigh. Jed laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
   
“Harry,” he said. “what are ya' gonna do come the weddin' night? You sure you wanna go through with this?”  
   
Instantly Harry became indignant once again. “Of course I want to go through with it!” he insisted. “I love Isabelle. I just don't think that an un-married lady should be so.....so.....”  
   
“Pushy?”  
   
“Oh well, I wouldn't say...”  
   
“Forward?”  
   
“Well yeah! Now that you mention it.” Harry was adamant. “A lady should let the man come to her, not...”  
   
“C'mon Harry, let me buy ya' a drink,” Jed suggested as he steered his friend towards the saloon, “and I'll let you in on a little secret.”  
   
“Oh...?”   
   
   
   
The two men entered the drinking establishment and headed straight for the bar. After the bright sunshine the interior of the saloon felt cool and inviting and the clink of glasses making the rounds brought a smile to Jed's face.  
   
“Hey Bill,” Jed greeted the bartender. “Two beers.”  
   
“Yeah I know,” Bill told him as he was already pouring the drinks and setting them on the bar. “Here ya' go. That'll be twenty cents.”  
   
“Keep a tab running,” Jed told him. “We might be here for a while.”  
   
“Hmm.”  
   
“Everything all set up for Friday night?” Jed asked.  
   
“Sure,” Bill assured him, almost sounding insulted. “Same room as before.”  
   
“Nothing too raucous now,” Harry practically wagged his finger as Jed picked up the two beers. “I don't want Isabelle thinkin' the wrong kind of thoughts.”  
   
“Oh sure Harry,” Jed assured him while Bill gave a sardonic snort. “Would I do that to you at your own bachelor party?”  
   
“Well....”  
   
The two men sat down at a conveniently empty table and Jed did a quick survey of the room before indulging in his first gulp of beer. Everything looked quiet just as it should be on Thursday afternoon and both men settled into their chairs to relax and enjoy their drinks.  
   
“What were you going to tell me?” Harry finally inquired of his best man.  
   
“What?” Jed was pulled from his musings. “Oh.....ah, don't be too hard on Isabelle, Harry. She's waited a long time for this.”  
   
“Well yeah, so have I!”  
   
“That's true enough,” Jed agreed sardonically. “Ain't you lookin' forward to your....weddin' night?”  
   
“I sure am!” Harry insisted. “Why she's going to be a happy little lady once I show her....”  
   
“Yeah, yeah. I get the picture.” Jed grimaced and took another swig of beer. “I guess my point is,” here Jed leaned in conspiratorially. “sometimes a woman with a bit of fire and who knows what she wants is a real nice....”  
   
“Now don't you be talkin' that way against my fiancee!” Harry looked like he was going to start a fist fight.  
   
“Harry, calm down,” Jed suggested. “I'm just sayin', sometimes they're....more fun. That's all. You should be happy to be gettin' a wife with some spunk. I'm congratulatin' ya' on your fine choice.”  
   
“Oh. Well. Okay. I suppose you have a point.” Harry smiled and downed the rest of his beer. “Bill! Another round!”   
   
Bill was quick to bring over two more mugs but Jed barely noticed him. His eye had been drawn to a small, unassuming man who had just walked in through the bat wing doors. To the casual observer there was really nothing remarkable about him. Though smaller in stature, inn some ways he reminded Jed of Harry in his age and manner of dress. But the resemblance stopped there. When Harry walked into a room he came in all puffed up and full of his self-importance. He wanted and totally expected to be noticed and held in awe of his obvious position and expertise.  
   
But this new man, dressed in a casual suit and not wearing a hat to cover his rapidly balding scalp seemed almost inconsequential. He did not warrant any particular notice and nor did he seek it, yet something about him caught Jed's eye. The ex-outlaw followed the gentleman with his gaze as the man casually made his way to the bar and ordered a shot before turning around and doing a quick but thorough scan of the establishment.   
   
Their eyes met. The older man's expression softened as though in recognition and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He picked up his drink and made his way over to the selected table. Jed watched him come, feeling a slight chill settle in his spine. His right hand under the table checked the readiness of his colt 45 while he waited for the meeting to take place.  
   
Harry had continued to chatter on about his upcoming nuptials, totally unaware of the little drama taking place right in front of him. Until the newcomer stood casually right at their table. Harry stopped with his mouth half open in mid-sentence and stared at the interloper as though not quite believing the audacity of the man.  
   
“Hello,” came the soft English accent. “You are Mr. Curry I take it?”  
   
Jed shifted slightly, making sure his feet were under him and his right arm unimpeded. “Well now, who wants to know?”  
   
The gentleman smiled and nodded his understanding. “Of course,” he stated and held out his right hand for shaking. “My name is Finney. Kevin Finney, from Scotland Yard.”  
   
Harry snorted derisively, but Jed seeing that there was no gun being pointed at him, pushed himself to his feet and shook the man's hand. “Mr. Finney.”   
   
Finney nodded and turned his attention and his hand to Harry. “Kevin Finney,” he repeated.  
   
Harry suddenly realized he better respond appropriately, pushed his chair back, and came to his feet to return the greeting.  
   
“Harry Briscoe!” he announced. “Bannerman Detective Agency. At your service. Anything the Bannermans can do to give a helping hand to Scotland Yard, well I'm just the man to do it!”  
   
“Indeed,” Finney responded politely.  
   
Jed's concern about this man instantly switched to a liking when he saw how quickly the Yard detective had summed Harry up and categorized him appropriately.  
   
Finney turned his attention back to Jed.  
   
“Your fine young deputy, Mr. Morin said that I was most likely to find you in here,” Finney explained. “May I join you?”  
   
Jed nodded towards an empty chair. “Sure. Have a seat Mr. Finney.”  
   
Finney pulled out a chair and settled himself. He took a sip from his shot glass and holding the dark amber liquid up to reflect the light, he smiled and made contact with Jed again.  
   
“Ah, American whiskey. It has a unique, barbaric punch to it, does it not?”  
   
Harry gaped at the man as though he were an idiot while Jed sat back and contemplated him for a moment. He was back to being cautious again. The words sounded vaguely like an insult but the tone used to utter them could not be described as anything but courteous and mild.  
   
“I wouldn't know Mr. Finney,” Jed finally conceded. “I'm a beer drinkin' man myself.”  
   
“Of course.”  
   
“You say Joe sent you over here?” Jed continued in an effort to get more information before passing final judgement. “Any particular reason?”  
   
Finney leaned forward on his elbows and shook his head with some regret.  
   
“It would seem that some of our more accomplished highwaymen and organized criminals have an unfortunate liking for the 'wild west',” Finney explained. “Those that don't head for Europe when things get too hot for them in England very often head for the Americas.”  
   
“Uh huh,” Jed agreed. “Big country out here. Easy to disappear.”  
   
“Yes.” Finney smiled. “Exactly. And since I have travelled to this continent before my superiors seemed to think that I shouldn't mind coming back.”  
   
“You've been here before?” Harry asked in an effort to be a part of the conversation.  
   
“Oh yes!” Finney confirmed. “Some years ago now. One of our citizens stole quite a fortune in precious stones and led us on a merry chase. But it all came to a satisfactory conclusion eventually. Now however, it seems we have a different type of animal to track down. This fellow likes the games of chance, except that he's found a way to take the chance out of it.”  
   
“Well that ain't hard to do if'n ya' know how,” Jed commented.  
   
“Hmm,” Finney agreed with a nod and a sip of whiskey. “But nobody seems to be able to see how. In fact, by the time the Yard gets word that someone is playing the odds and winning the scoundrel has pulled up stakes and moved on.  
“Normally some penny-ante card sharp wouldn't warrant the attention of the Yard, but as I mentioned, this particular gentleman has moved up the ladder. He befriended a minor aristocrat, received an official invitation to a very exclusive club and proceeded to fleece all the members of their finances.   
“Unfortunately this man is very smooth. He is a master at disguising not only his appearance, but his personality and even his mannerisms to the point where no one witness could give an accurate accounting of who it was that had swindled them.”  
   
Jed smiled. “Sounds like a master, alright.  
   
“Yes,” Finney agreed again. “And it's going to take a master to catch him.”  
   
“Uh huh,” Jed commented as realization of where this conversation was heading came to him. Jed sighed. Great. The timing couldn't have been worse. He and Beth were still adjusting to parenthood and their new home. Jed was busy with Harry's wedding plans and Heyes was long gone and probably having the time of his life. “So you're wanting to hire us to help flush this fella out, trick him at his own game.”  
   
“Indeed.” Finney sat back and contemplated the younger man sitting across from him. “You see when I was last in the United States I spent a fair amount of time in the Devil's Hole country. In England we have enough of our own criminals to deal with so what goes on over here is not really worthy of note. Still I couldn't help but learn a certain amount about the outlaw gang who inhabited that region, and especially about the two men who ran that gang. You and your partner I believe it was, Mr. Curry.”  
   
Kid was starting to feel slightly pressured here. “Yes, Mr. Finney, Heyes and I ran Devil's Hole but that was a number of years ago now and we've both paid our....”  
   
“Oh yes, yes, I realize that,” Finney quickly put him at his ease. “I was after a larger fish then so other than a certain professional curiosity I had no interest in pursuing the matter further at that time. The case I was working on came to a close and I returned home to continue with my own affairs.  
“Now this new situation has arisen and I once again find myself in your interesting country. I picked up the trail of our miscreant in New York a few months ago and have been following him on a rather steady trail here to Colorado.”  
   
“Why would he be coming here?” Harry asked. “I would have thought New York would offer better pickings than this little flyspeck of a town.”  
   
Jed sent Harry a mild frown at the insult to his home town but Harry just looked at him and shrugged.  
   
“What?” he asked. Jed simply shook his head.  
   
“In many ways I would agree with you, Mr. Briscoe,” Finney acknowledged. “but the closer we got to Colorado the more buzz I was hearing about a rather large and prestigious poker game which takes place in Denver in approximately a month's time. Invitation only. Have you gentlemen heard of this game?”  
   
Jed sighed and almost groaned into his beer mug. “Yup,” he admitted. “I gotta admit that Heyes would love to get an invitation to that game but at the same time, dreading it. Makes it kinda' hard ta' live with him sometimes.”  
   
“Indeed.” Finney smiled knowingly. “It would appear that it has also caught the attention of our criminal and I believe that he is in Denver at this moment laying the ground work for this very coveted invitation for himself.”  
   
“Then why aren't you in Denver drawing him out?” Harry asked this obviously inferior detective. No wonder his superiors ship him over-seas every chance they get. “Seems like a waste of time to me for you to be loitering around out here.”  
   
Finney sent Harry a tolerant smile. “It would indeed seem the more prudent choice of action,” he agreed. “until I was able to get a look at the invitation list. Much to my surprise I came across a name that was vaguely familiar; Mr. Hannibal Heyes.”  
   
A second of silence followed this announcement as once again Jed and Harry exchanged a look that was both skeptical and confused at the same time.  
   
“Heyes has been invited to the Denver game?” Harry asked.  
   
“He never said anythin' about gettin’ an invite,” Jed commented.  
   
“Perhaps it slipped his mind,” Finney suggested.  
   
Jed and Harry both laughed.  
   
“Not much slips Heyes' mind, and definitely not somethin' like that,” Jed countered. “Are you sure the invites have been mailed?”  
   
Finney nodded. “Oh yes. Although I did note that Mr. Heyes' invitation had yet to be confirmed. Still it was enough to plant the seeds of an idea and I began to do some research on The Devil's Hole gang and their two infamous leaders.” Finney smiled at Jed in a way that caused some discomfort to the former outlaw, like he was nekked under a magnifying glass. “I had heard enough about Mr. Heyes' proficiency at the poker table from my previous time spent in Wyoming to feel that he had possibility. Further research now proved my suspicions more than correct. Indeed, both yourself and your partner have quite the reputation concerning the games of chance and the art of the con. Then imagine my surprise when I discover that not only are you both now free men, but have a investigation and security business of your own on the go.  
“I felt that the side trip to Brookswood in order to speak to you gentlemen was in order. As you have already surmised Mr. Curry, I would like to hire you both to assist me in identifying this scoundrel and catching him at his own game.”  
   
“That's all well and good Mr. Finney,” Jed told him. “but Heyes ain't here and again, he made no mention of an invite to that game.”  
   
“Aye, and that's a rub for sure,” the Yard man concurred. “Is there some way to get in contact with him? Find out when he intends to return. Perhaps even discuss this situation with him.”  
   
“I donno, Mr. Finney.” Jed sat back showing obvious reluctance. “Heyes is on his honeymoon and I wouldn't want him feelin' like he had to get back here. Besides, he said nothin' ta' me about an invite so if he did get one then he probably decided he wasn't gonna go.”  
   
“And why would that be since you said yourself that he coveted the invitation?”  
   
“It's an awful expensive buy-in,” Jed pointed out. “He may have felt that his income could not support putting up that much money on a poker game. He's a family man now and has other responsibilities.”  
   
“Ah yes, of course.” Finney thought about it for a moment. “I could wire the Yard and request at least a portion of the buy-in expense. If this leads to a capture it would be well worth it. I'm sure there would still be some expenses that your company would be responsible for but at least now it would be for company business and not just a prestigious poker game.”  
   
“Yeah,” Jed still sounded skeptical. “I suppose I can get a message to him about all this. I am expecting them back before the date of the game, but the officials would need confirmation before then.” Another heavy sigh, then a decision. “I'll see what I can do Mr. Finney. I know the Brown Palace has one of those telephone things and I'd bet that the hotel close to Silky's home in San Francisco would have one as well. Just gotta find out which one.”  
   
“I can do that Mr. Curry,” Finney offered. “The Brown Palace itself would know which other hotels in the country have telephones and would even know how to get through to it.”  
   
Jed nodded. “Okay. No guarantees though. I ain't agreein' on nothin' until I discuss it with my partner first.”  
   
“Completely understood, Mr. Curry,” Finney agreed. He downed the last of his whiskey and stood up to go. “I will be in touch. Indeed, if you let me know when Mr. Heyes is going to be in San Francisco I could make the call myself.”  
   
“Ah, I don't think that's a good idea,” Jed surmised. “Ya' see Heyes is kind of the suspicious type. He don't know you and if he has already decided he don't want to join the game then it might be better if I bring it up. Denver is not that far away. Once I can set up a time, I'll come in and make the call myself.”  
   
“Fair enough,” Finney agreed and held out his hand for shaking. “I'll get back to Denver and settle in. I'll send you my contact information when I get there.”  
   
“Fine.”  
   
“Good day Mr. Curry, Mr. Briscoe.”  
   
Farewells were exchanged and the Yard detective took his leave. Jed and Harry sat down again and ordered another couple of beers.  
   
“That was interesting,” Harry commented. “Do you think Heyes even received an invitation or is this guy just trying to set up his own con? We should have asked for his credentials.”  
   
“Yeah. I donno,” Jed admitted. “But one thing's for sure. I better get a telegram sent to Silky pretty quick. Whether this Mr. Finney is for real or not, Heyes is gonna need a head's up.

Xxx

 

They were standing in each others arms on the porch of their home.  
   
“Are you sure you're gonna be alright out here all on your own?” Jed asked his young wife.  
   
Gov was all tacked up and waiting patiently at the hitching rail by the steps. He had begun to recognize the pattern with these two humans and he found it a bit of an adjustment to make after being used to the jump and run routine that had been typical during their recent adventures with this human and his male friend. The new routine with the female human was more a matter of hurry up and wait than hurry up and go. It did try a horse's patience.   
   
Gov sighed and concluded it with a pointed snort, then sat down on a back hoof and resigned himself to wait.  
   
“Of course I'll be alright,” Beth chided her over-protective husband. “I'm a rancher's daughter remember. I'm quite accustomed to looking after livestock.”  
   
“I know that,” Jed continued, “but you'll be out here all alone. I don't think I should leave you here. Why don't you hitch up Daisy and go stay at your folks place until it's time ta' come into town for the weddin'?”  
   
“Then what about Karma and Percy?” Beth asked reasonably. “Someone needs to be here to feed them supper and breakfast.” She smiled and patted him on the chest. “Don't be silly. I'll be fine. In case you have forgotten, I do know how to use a rifle—remember?”  
   
“Ho ho!” Jed laughed. “How could I forget? Okay. I'll see you in town on the big day.”  
   
“Yes,” Beth agreed. “but don't you be running amok! Just because it's a bachelor party doesn't give you leave to be getting drunk and carousing with the ladies. Besides, somebody has to watch out for Harry.”  
   
“Yes ma'am,” Jed teased her. “No gettin' drunk or carousin' with ladies. Well, unless it's one lady in particular...”  
   
“Oh really?” Beth teased him. “You have a particular lady in town who....”  
   
Jed shut his wife's mouth with a kiss. She began to giggle as his hands moved down her back and gave her buttocks a squeeze.  
   
“There is a particular lady,” he breathed into her ear. “but she ain't in town.”  
   
“Oh no?” Beth asked between kisses. “Where is she then?”  
   
“She's right here,” Jed informed her.   
   
He picked her up by the waist and swung her around to set her up on the hand railing of the porch. He nuzzled into her neck and their kisses became more passionate. Jed supported her there with one hand, but the other made a run for the money, lifting her skirt and trying to maneuver its way around her bloomers.  
   
Beth had stopped giggling now as passion took hold. She trusted him to not let her fall and leaning back she wrapped her legs around him to pull him in close.  
   
A wailing from inside the open door was like a bucket of ice water dousing the heat of passion. Both parents groaned.  
   
“Just let him be,” Jed whispered. “He'll be alright for a few minutes.”  
   
“No no, I can't,” Beth insisted as she pushed her husband away from her. “He's probably hungry.”  
   
“Then he can wait....”  
   
“I can't do this while he's crying,” Beth insisted. “Let me tend to him.”  
   
She slipped out of Jed's arms and walked into the house to quiet her son. Jed stood leaning against the support post, breathing heavily and feeling frustrated. He looked over at Gov who was staring at him and, Jed was sure, laughing at him as well.  
   
“What?” he asked his horse. “Just 'cause you're a gelding....”  
   
Standing up straight, he adjusted himself and walked carefully into the house. Beth was settled into the rocker in the nursery with her son contentedly suckling.  
   
Beth smiled up at her husband as his form filled the door frame.  
   
“Sorry,” she told him. “Let me finish feeding him. I'll give him a cool bath and get him changed and settled in, then we can....”  
   
“No, that's alright darlin',” Jed came in and gave her a kiss on her forehead. He cupped his son's head in his hand and then stood up. “I best be gettin' on. I'm already runnin' a little late. I'll see you both in town for the weddin'.”  
   
“Alright, if you're sure.”  
   
“I'm sure.”  
   
“Love you!” Beth called after the retreating back.  
   
“Love you too,” came back the fading response.  
   
Jed awkwardly walked down the steps and untying the ever patient Gov, he began to lead the gelding along the dirt road that would take them into town. He didn't quite know what he was feeling at this point, other than uncomfortable.  
   
Staying celibate had been difficult enough before he and Beth got married but he had agreed to it and he understood the reasons for it. He'd managed and he had a lifetime ahead of him for making love to his wife. He knew that knowledge was what had kept him honest. He hadn't been disappointed either. Beth was inexperienced, but she was also very willing to learn and try different things. She not only didn't mind the more exotic things he had introduced her to, she actually seemed to enjoy them and had even come up with some smooth moves of her own. Jed foresaw a future of sexual pleasures he had only dreamed of when carousing with the more jagged prostitutes.

But now....damn. He tried not to be frustrated, not to feel slighted. T.J. was still a new infant—of course he was going to demand the majority of Beth's attentions. But it seemed to happen every time! He and Beth would just be getting into it when the baby would cry and instantly Jed would be forgotten about. Or Beth was simply too tired to be interested in sexual playtime. She'd promise to come back to him after T.J. had been fed, or changed or simply cuddled back to sleep, but inevitably she would end up falling asleep herself and Jed would be left tending to his own need.  
   
He felt left out. He felt ignored, and then he felt guilty about feeling that way. Truth be known, he was disappointed. He and Beth had wanted a large family and despite their first failure, it did look as though more children would not be a problem for them. If they could ever get back to the pleasure of making them, that is. But the raising of them? Jed began to doubt his ability and his patience to handle a house full of children, especially if it meant a serious curtailment of sexual pleasures.  
   
He sighed as he continued to walk towards town. By the way things were calming down he figured he would be able to mount up and start riding soon but he was in no hurry to put that to the test. His mind wandered to Flo's establishment and he absently smiled with fond remembrance of his regular visits there. Maybe he could....no, no! He stopped himself thinking along those lines and then instantly felt guilty again for even considering it. He knew himself that his comment at Bridget and Steven's home about using a prostitute wasn't really cheating was far from the truth. He had simply been trying to make light of Harry's upcoming nuptials and of course it had fallen flat. He knew it was wrong. Another reason he had blocked that thought was a strictly physical one. If he allowed that kind of meandering to take over, he'd never be able to mount up and actually ride into town.  
   
This was awful, and totally unexpected. Nobody told him about this aspect of family life. Oh he knew that raising children was a lot of work and parents had to make sacrifices, he knew that—of course. But sacrifices in the marriage bed? That had never occurred to him. He began to have a little more understanding and even sympathy for those married men who found their way over to Flo's place of business on a regular basis. He didn't see himself as one of those men; he hoped he had more respect for his wife than that. But he could now understand it.   
   
Another heavy sigh. He wondered if this was something he could talk to David about. Or even if he should. David was more than just his doctor, he was a good friend who often had insights to issues that were not necessarily medical. But did he really want to admit to this? He felt like such a lout feeling jealous of his own son, how could he even admit to that out loud? No, he'd keep this to himself. He was just being selfish and inconsiderate. Beth still loved him, she was just tired, that's all. Once T.J. got a little older, they'd be right back at it again. And then she'd be pregnant again and it would start all over—oh crap!  
   
Of course they had discussed taking measures to plan their children and though he had agreed to it, he did feel uncomfortable about going that route. It wasn't the fact that it was illegal. Truth be told he really didn't care about that. What difference did it make to the law what he and his consenting wife did in the privacy of their own home? No, it was simply the idea of using a preventative with his own wife. It still made him feel like it was dirty, disrespectful. Like he was simply using her body for his own pleasure and not actually making love to her.  
   
Beth couldn't see his problem with it and he was trying very hard to see it from her side of things. For one thing, it certainly would make their lives a whole lot easier. To be able to space them out so that they wouldn't be dealing with one pregnancy after another? Yes. As Jed walked beside his horse and tried to ignore the aching in his groin his feelings on this matter began to shift. Maybe it wasn't so disrespectful after all.  
   
And they had talked about adopting. They could adopt an older child, like Sally. One who wouldn't be quite so demanding as a newborn. Both he and Beth had agreed on doing that at least once and possibly more. They could have a large family and still get their digs in too. Have a baby, then adopt an older one. Have a baby then adopt an older one. Yes! This could work.  
   
Jed grinned. He was feeling a whole lot better about this situation already. Turning to his horse, he let Gov come to a halt beside him and giving the horse a pat on the neck, he collected the reins and easily swung aboard.  
   
“Okay, young man,” Jed said to the gelding. “At least I can still get a good gallop with you.”  
   
Giving Gov a nudge with his heels, the horse swung into an easy lope and they completed the trip to town in style.  
   
xxx  
   
“C'mon Harry!” Kid complained. “You're gonna be late for your own party if you don't get a move on!”  
   
“Yeah, yeah I'm coming,” Harry assured him. “Gotta make sure I look presentable. It's not an everyday event; a man getting married.”   
   
“This is a party Harry, not the actual wedding,” Jed pointed out. “Nobody expects ya' to be all spiffed up.”  
   
“Just let me check my....”  
   
Jed reached his limit and grabbing Harry by the arm he dragged him away from the mirror and herded him out the door of the hotel room.  
   
“Ya look fine!”  
   
“Alright alright,” Harry straightened his tie as best he could while Jed hustled him down the hallway. “What ya' in such a dang blasted hurry for?”  
   
“I'm hungry!”   
   
The two men clomped down the stairs and into the lobby of the hotel. Jed made a bee line for the door and missed Harry taking a detour towards the front desk.  
   
“You sure everything is in order for the weddin' night?” the groom-to-be asked Albertto.  
   
Albertto gave a look of resigned indignation. “How many times you ask me? Of course everything...”  
   
“Will you come on!” Jed had done a quick about face and grabbed hold of Harry's arm again.  
   
“It's an important night Kid!” Harry insisted. “Have to make sure...”  
   
“Everything's fine,” Jed assured him as they headed out the door and onto the street. “Albertto may not be the sharpest nail in the woodpile but he's done enough weddin' suites by now to keep even you happy. C'mon!”  
   
Entering the noisy smoke filled saloon, Jed simply sent Bill a quick greeting, not wanting to give Harry any excuses to get sidetracked yet again. How this man ever stayed focused enough to follow a lead from crime to perpetrator was beyond Jed. The detective had the attention span of a scared rabbit. He hurried Harry along to the back room where everyone congregated for the private parties. With a slight apprehension that the room might actually be empty, Jed opened the door and pushed his friend inside.  
   
A huge cheer went up, startling Harry and alleviating Jed's fears.   
   
“Here he is!”  
   
“About time!”  
   
“Beginnin' ta think you was gonna miss yer own bachelor party!”  
   
Harry grinned with delight at the fine turn out. Truth be known he'd been a bit concerned as well that nobody would show up.

Clara, Matilda and Susie were quick to home in on the groom. Surrounding him with their sensuous embraces they floated him away from Jed and somehow managed to get all four of them settled into the loveseat.  
   
“Hi Harry,” Susie purred as she ran her hand over his hair. “ready to have a good time tonight?”  
   
“Oh well, ah, sure!” Harry smiled. “That's what we're here for isn't it?”  
   
“Just so long as it ain't too good a time,” Emmett cautioned him while at the same time handing him a beer. “Pa told us ta' keep an eye on you.”   
   
“Of course!” Harry assured his future brother-in-law, “Not too good a time. Ha ha, I wouldn't do that to my little peach!”  
   
Jed breathed a sigh of relief that this little shindig had actually come together. Thank goodness for friends who didn't mind showing up for a party, especially when there was free food and beer in the offering. Leaving Harry to fend for himself, Jed headed over to the center table for a beer and a meat sandwich and began to make the rounds.  
   
“Howdy Wheat,” Kid greeted his old compatriot. “Glad you could make it.”  
   
“Yeah well, what are friends for huh?” Wheat mumbled. “A'sides, good way ta round out the season before headin' south.”  
   
“Too bad you can't meet up with Heyes,” Jed commented. “but I'm figurin' they'll be long gone by the time you and Kyle get down there.”  
   
“I'm figurin' the same thing, Kid,” Wheat informed him. “Why'd ya' think we're hangin' around? Kill some time with some free beer and head south next week.”  
   
“Aw come on,” Jed took mock offense. “I thought you an' Heyes was gettin' along fine these days.”  
   
“Yeah yeah we are,” Wheat assured him. “but I get enough a' him when we're workin' for 'em. Don't need to be bumpin' inta 'em durin' our time off.”  
   
“You're gonna hurt his feelings.”  
   
Wheat snorted. “Like hell.”  
   
“Yep.” Jed looked around. “Where's Kyle?”  
   
Wheat snorted again. “That little fool is all love sick over a little lady he met a while back.”  
   
“Oh yeah? Again?” Jed asked. “Not another saloon gal I hope.”  
   
“Nope,” Wheat smirked. “Isabelle's little sister.”  
   
“What!” Jed nearly choked on his sandwich. “He ain't serious!”  
   
“Hell, you know Kyle,” Wheat said, “a gal winks at 'em and he's stakin' out the mercantile fer a weddin' ring.”  
   
“He better not go stealin' any rings now,” Jed warned. “That'd be a real mess after everything we've been through.”  
   
“Naw,” Wheat shrugged it off. “He's still got the last one he stole fer that farmer's daughter right a'fore he got locked up. Surprise, surprise that she didn't wait fer 'em.”  
   
“Yeah well...”  
   
“Besides,” Wheat continued. “We're headin' south. By the time we get back up this way she'll a got herself hog tied and branded by one a them farm hands who keep sniffin' around her.”  
   
“Did I hear somebody say something about staking out the mercantile?” came a deep voice from behind the two ex-outlaws.  
   
“Oh ah, howdy there Lom,” Wheat shuffled. “Naw, we was just ah, chewin' the fat here. Nothin' serious.”  
   
“Uh huh.”  
   
Jed smiled at the two men who had come to join them and nodded a greeting.  
   
“Hey Lom, Kenny. Glad you could make it.”  
   
“Wouldn't have missed this for the world boys,” Lom commented with just a touch of irony.  
   
“Never thought we'd see the day,” Kenny added. “It's almost like witnessing an historical event.”  
   
All four men turned their gazes towards Harry who was being hand fed a sandwich by one lovely lady and offered beer by another.  
   
“Yeah,” Jed commented. “So! Martha and Sarah come with you?”  
   
“Martha's here,” Lom told him. “She's looking forward to spending some time with Belle and is all eager to meet the new babe.”  
   
Jed beamed, a new father's pride still close to the surface.  
   
“Sarah stayed home this trip,” Kenny said with some regret. “She was hoping to meet the new arrival as well, but the three boys are back East and Evelyn has school. We thought it best not to pull her out of class for this.”  
   
“Yeah, a' course,” Jed agreed. “Maybe next summer you can all come by again. Heyes and Miranda will have had their new one by then so you can meet everyone at once.”  
   
“Heyes and Randa?” asked Kenny.  
   
“Yeah,” Jed confirmed. “He found out when we got back from Devil's Hole. Didn't he tell ya'?”  
   
“Not a word.” Kenny looked slightly disappointed.  
   
“Well I only knew about it because Martha and Belle stay in touch,” Lom grumbled. “That old reprobate wouldn't tell his own mother he was gonna be a pa if somebody didn't twist his arm first.”  
   
“Don't take it personal Kenny,” Jed told him. “You know what Heyes is like.”  
   
Kenny nodded. “Odd that he would take her on such an extended trip at such a time,” he said. “Is it safe?”  
   
Jed shrugged. “David didn't think there would be a problem.”  
   
“Sarah had quite a hard time during the first few months with Evelyn,” Kenny volunteered. “She sure wouldn't have been up to a trip like that while pregnant.”  
   
“I donno, Beth seemed ta' handle it alright,” Jed countered. “She was throwin' up a bit but Belle helped her get through that.”  
   
“Sarah threw up a lot!” Kenny emphasized. “It got to where she couldn't even look at jellied ham hocks without....”  
   
   
“Ah, look there's Kyle and Ames,” Wheat announced. “I think I'll go over and talk ta them fer a while.”  
   
“Yeah,” Lom agreed. “I need another beer.”  
   
The two men quickly made an exit.  
   
“What scared them off?” Kenny asked.  
   
Jed shrugged.  
   
“Oh Kenny,” Jed suddenly thought about something. “You know anything about Scotland Yard?”  
   
Kenny gave a little laugh. “I know I wouldn't want them looking for me,” he commented. “They're a top notch police force.”  
   
“Yeah?” Jed asked. “Are they likely ta' send an agent all the way over here ta' track down a con artist?”  
   
“They might,” Kenny surmised. “I've known them to not let go of a lead no matter where it takes them. Leaving the country won't save you if you've got Scotland Yard on your trail. I warned Heyes about that when he was contemplating running out on his parole and heading over that way with Mrs. Stewart. Not sure if that is what dissuaded him or not, but he would have been in real trouble if those fellas had been sent after him.” Kenny stopped talking then and sent his friend a suspicious look. “Why are you asking me about Scotland Yard? Don't tell me you and your partner are somehow in trouble with them too!”   
   
“No, of course not!” Jed insisted. “How would we have managed that?”  
   
Kenny shrugged. “How should I know? You two did a lot of things you shouldn't have been able to do. One more wouldn't have been a huge surprise.”  
   
Jed smiled. “Thank you.”  
   
Kenny sent him a look.  
   
“No, but seriously,” Jed got back down to business. “There was this Scotland Yard fella come around askin' questions yesterday. At least he said he was with Scotland Yard. I was just wonderin', cause it didn't seem too plausible ta' me that they would send an agent all the way over here just to catch some card sharpin' conman, so I got ta' thinkin' that it might be someone tryin' ta' set us up. Said he'd heard about me and Heyes startin' up a detective agency and wanted Heyes ta' accept an invite into that big poker game in Denver in order to catch this guy.”  
   
“What would he be setting you up for?” Kenny asked. “You're not wanted.”  
   
“Yeah I know,” Jed conceded. “but, you know, after that scare with them fellas kidnappin' Heyes and all that, I figure we can't be too careful. There could still be someone out there with a lot of money and a big grudge who will go to a lot of trouble and expense to get his hands on us. Just thought I best do some checkin'.”  
   
Kenny nodded. “You're right,” he agreed. “it is best to check. I wouldn't be surprised if this man is legit but I can check him out if you want. Send some telegrams, ask some questions.”

“Would ya' Kenny? That would be great. I don't like ta' bother Heyes while he's on his honeymoon, but either way he should know that someone is askin' after him.”  
   
“Don't worry him with this just yet,” Kenny suggested. “Give me a chance to do some digging. What's the man's name?”  
   
“Finney,” Jed informed him. “Kevin Finney.”  
   
Kenny nodded and gave Jed a pat on the arm.   
   
“As soon as I get home I'll check it out,” Kenny assured him. “Now, how about another beer. And those sandwiches look awfully tasty.”  
   
The evening progressed with more people arriving and by 8:00 the party was in full swing. David and Steven arrived together with Joe Morin dropping in shortly after that. He was followed by two strangers dressed in suits and fedoras who made a direct line to first the beer and sandwiches and then to Harry.  
   
Harry was overjoyed.  
   
“Boys, boys!” Harry greeted them as he staggered to his feet. “Glad you could make it!”  
   
“Sure thing Briscoe!”  
   
“Wouldn't miss this for the world.”  
   
The three men shook hands all around as Jed came over to meet the newcomers. He had to admit to some curiosity about anyone he didn't know showing up at the party.   
   
“Kid!” Harry greeted him enthusiastically. “These are my two good friends, Larry and Barry.” 

“Larry and Barry?” Jed questioned.  
   
Three wide grins faced him. “We're Bannerman men!”  
   
“Ohh,” Jed nodded as they shook hands. “I gotta admit the suits kinda' gave it away.”  
   
“They did?” Harry looked confused.  
   
Larry and Barry looked blank.  
   
“So,” Jed tried to make conversation. “You fellas actually catch criminals do you?”  
   
All three puffed up.  
   
“Sure do,” Larry answered with pride. “Just last week we closed a very important case.”  
   
“Yes siree,” Barry confirmed. “Took over a year to get the evidence on those rascals but we did. Nobody's safe with Bannerman men around!”  
   
“Yeah well, knowin' Harry as well as I do, I can believe that,” Jed responded.  
   
“See boys?” Harry preened. “Even Kid Curry knows he's gotta watch his step when I'm around.”  
   
“Yeah!” Larry slapped Harry on the back. “I'll drink to that!”  
   
“So will I!” Barry piped in.  
   
Three glasses clanked and were promptly drained of their contents.  
   
It was Barry's turn to give Harry a congratulatory slap. “You sure showed those two,” he commented with a laugh. “You impressed the hell outa us when we found out how you had those 'high and mighty' outlaws tucked neatly in your back pocket.”  
   
“Who'd have thought that ole' Harry Briscoe would have Heyes and Curry at his beck and call!” Larry agreed. “I knew there had to be a legitimate reason why a fine agent like you wasn't getting your quota of cases closed. It was because you were working undercover with Heyes and Curry all along and everything had to be kept hush hush.” A conspiratory jab on the arm followed this statement. “You sure showed them! Yeah, nobody can keep a secret like Harry Briscoe!”  
   
“Really?” Jed commented with a pointed look to the guest of honour. “Curry and Heyes in your back pocket all this time.”  
   
“Not surprised you didn't know,” Larry assured the younger man. “None of us knew until ole' Harry here had to own up to it at that hearing a few years back. Why, we can only imagine how many cases he's solved but couldn't take credit for because he had to protect his snitches.”  
   
“Snitches?”  
   
“Yessir!” Barry confirmed. “Harry here is an unsung hero. I sure hope Heyes and Curry realize they owe their lives to this man!”  
   
“Not that their lives are worth much anymore!” Larry piped in and the two men fell into each other laughing.  
   
Another pointed look from Jed had Harry squirming.  
   
“Ahh, fellas,” Harry broke in on their revelry. “I'd like ya' to meet one of my ah...my....hmmm...”  
   
“Friends, Harry,” Jed suggested.  
   
“Yeah yeah. Boys, this here is Kid Curry.”  
   
The two men sobered and stared at the Kid in mild disbelief.  
   
Jed smiled and extended a hand for shaking. “Howdy.”  
   
“You're Kid Curry?” Barry asked him.  
   
“People generally call me Jed now, but....”  
   
Barry and Larry looked at each other and took to laughing again.  
   
“Good one Harry!” Larry snorkeled.  
   
“Yeah!” Barry seconded. “Like you'd actually invite a low life like Curry to your bachelor party!”  
   
“Always the kidder ain't ya' Harry!”  
   
The two men went to back slapping Harry once again and even included Jed in the merry making this time around.  
   
“You're a good sport for going along with it!” Larry praised the Kid. “But we aren't quite that gullible.”   
   
“Yes!” Barry agreed. “We may have been born at night....”  
   
“....but not last night!” they both finished off.  
   
“I donno 'bout you Larry, but I need some more beer.”  
   
“I'm right with ya' there Barry, time for more beer.”  
   
The two men staggered off leaving Harry to face the music.  
   
“Harry....”  
   
“Oh now Kid, you can't take....”  
   
“Harry!” Matilda snuck in under Harry's arm. “Enough chatting with these silly men, come back and join us, it's time to put on a show!”  
   
Matilda directed Harry towards the makeshift stage for some song and dance while Harry grinned his relief at yet another narrow escape. Jed watched him go then turned to look back at the refreshment table where more beer pitchers and sandwich platters had conveniently materialized. He watched in amazement as the two Bannerman men refreshed their refreshing, then they moved on and became involved in a conversation with Wheat.   
   
Harry was being amply entertained by Matilda and didn't look like he needed rescuing so Jed headed over to his group of preferred friends. There appeared to be an engrossing conversation going on between Kenny, Steven and David so Jed was naturally drawn to it.  
   
“I don't know,” Kenny was saying. “There is a larger prison under construction in Rawlins but it all seems to have come to a standstill. In the meantime the prison in Laramie is becoming more and more overcrowded. We have two, sometimes three inmates per cell and it's a bad situation all around.”  
   
“I can certainly see where it would be a problem,” David agreed. “Overcrowding under the best conditions leads to confrontations but in a prison it must be like sitting on a powder keg.”  
   
“Good thing Heyes is no longer there,” Jed commented. “He had a difficult time as it was with his own cell. Can't imagine him actually sharing with anyone.”  
   
Kenny rolled his eyes. “He doesn't know how lucky he is to be out of it now. All the more reason he keeps his nose clean. I'm getting less and less support from the governor's office. Their attitude seems to be that the new prison will solve all our problems and yet the construction of that prison has ground to a halt.”  
   
“They're still fortunate to have you as the warden there,” Steven pointed out. “At least you're trying to help some of these inmates get through their time.”   
   
“I'm trying,” Kenny agreed. “but as I said, I'm getting less and less support. They put me in there because they felt I had some sound ideas for keeping the prison running smoothly, but now they seem to think my methods are too soft. Yet we have had fewer confrontations and fewer escape attempts since I took over.” He shook his head with some disappointment. “Bureaucrats! The penal board seems to be ignoring my results in favour of stronger discipline and tighter controls. Sometimes I feel like I'm hitting my head against the wall.”  
   
“Havin' you in there has gotta be better than someone like Mitchell,” Jed commented. “At least you're tryin'. And once Heyes gets back we can get serious about helpin' ya' out with some of them fellas.”  
   
Kenny nodded as he took a drink. “Yes. I already have a couple of young fellas in mind who could benefit from the program. One is due out next month, the other in four months. Is Jesse going to be here tonight? I wouldn't mind discussing with him the possibility of them coming to work out at the ranch.”   
   
“He might,” Jed told him. “Though it is gettin' kinda late for him. I know he'll be at the weddin' though.”  
   
“Okay.”  
   
Nobody in this group was really paying much attention to the raucous song and dance that was going on at the other end of the room. The tinny piano music accentuated by the laughter of the gals and the various gentlemen whooping and hollering along with the entertainment had simply become the accepted background. People were having a difficult enough time hearing their own conversations let alone what other's were saying. That is until a previously innocuous conversation took a turn for the worse, and voices began to rise in anger.  
   
“You mean you're the low down dirty thieving outlaw who put a bullet in his lung?” Larry was yelling in Wheat's face.  
   
Wheat's complexion was turning red as both his voice and his anger rose. “You're conveniently forgettin' that he done the same to me and then some!”  
   
“But you're just a low down dirty thieving outlaw!” Barry parroted Larry. “You destroyed the career of an outstanding lawman...”  
   
“Outstanding lawman my ass!” Wheat threw back. “Morrison's a murderin' bastard! He deserved...”

And that's when the fists started flying.  
   
At first Wheat found himself outnumbered as both Larry and Barry landed punches at the same time. Wheat was on the ground, taking a chair down with him just as Kyle and Ames dashed to the aide of their friend and the two Bannerman men got tackled from behind. More chairs clattered to the floor and the heavily laden table was jarred to the side as all five adversaries found themselves prone on the floor but still fighting.  
   
Feminine screams and masculine yells took over from the song and dance while the ladies of the evening scrambled to get out of the way. This eventuality wasn't new to them and all three were quick to dash out the door to safer ground until things cooled down.  
   
Lom and Jed jumped into the melee with the intentions of breaking it up and Harry, seeing his opportunity to do the right thing, joined them. Unfortunately Harry grabbing on to Larry and pulling him up off Ames only resulted in Larry swinging around and landing his best punch of the evening. Harry staggered back, tripped over someone's leg and fell into Jed, knocking both of them into the table.  
   
The table tipped, sending the men, the platter of sandwiches and the beer pitchers all crashing to the ground, but not before they had hit some marks on the way down. Jed found himself deluged with beer as that same pitcher bounced off Harry's head, then hit the floor and spewed the remaining contents over the other combatants. Jed's first thought was to get to Harry and pull the groom-to-be out of the battle, but he slipped on the wet floor and ended up landing on top of him instead.  
   
In the meantime Lom got hold of Ames and had flung him over to the outskirts where he bounced against the wall and slid to the ground. He sat there in a stupor, too drunk to bother trying to return to the fray. Barry was on his back with Wheat straddling him and trying to punch him in the face but considering the ex-outlaw was seeing two faces, neither of which would hold still, he succeeded in punching the floorboards more often than his intended target.   
   
Larry jumped onto Wheat's back with the idea of pulling him off Barry but then Kyle grabbed hold of Larry, lost his balance and the whole pile collapsed. Everybody scrambled to get a foothold on the wet and slippery wood then instantly changed their tactics and dove to the floor instead, covering their heads as three loud reports from a handgun ended the brawl.  
   
At first, the only sounds were heavy breathing and groans coming from under the overturned table. Those that could, raised their eyes to see Joe Morin with the smoking handgun still pointed at the ceiling and they all groaned for a different reason. Were they going to be spending the rest of the night over in the jailhouse?  
   
“Come on everyone!” Lom took control of the situation. “On your feet. Party's over.”  
   
“Aw shoot Lom,” Wheat complained. “we was just havin' some fun.”  
   
“Yeah, I know what kind of fun you boys get up to when you've been drinkin',” Lom countered. “Time to call it a night. It's gettin' late anyway.”  
   
“Hell, it can't be no later 'en 10:00,” Kyle complained as he staggered to his knees. “We ain't barely begun yet.”  
   
“It's after midnight,” Joe informed them. “Get on over to your hotel rooms and sleep it off. Big day tomorrow.”  
   
“Aw hell!” Wheat grumbled. “C'mon Kyle. Get on yer feet.”  
   
“I am on my feet.”  
   
“No you ain't, yer on yer knees.”  
   
“Oh yeah. Hey, where's Ames? Oh—there he is.”  
   
Barry and Larry were busy brushing off each other's suits before staggering around the room looking for their fedoras. Then most of the combatants gathered together their gear and as a group ambled their way out the door and over to the hotel.  
   
David, Steven and Kenny had wisely stayed out of the battle, leaving it up to the lawmen present to do what they did best. David's main concern at this point was for people who hadn't even been at the party.  
   
“It's good that you stopped the fight Joe,” he commented. “but what about the people upstairs? Those shots could have gone right through the ceiling.”  
   
“Aw no,” Joe assured him. “they never rent out that room when there's a party booked in here. Too many of them end up just like this. I'd a never fired a shot if I hadn't known that.”  
   
David smiled. “Good man. Oh no....”   
   
Jed was in the process of pulling the table off Harry who did not appear to be moving.  
   
“Hey Harry,” Jed slapped the guest of honour a couple of times on the cheek. “C'mon Harry, wake up.”  
   
David came over and knelt down opposite Jed. He lifted the detective's eyelids and ran his hands over the beer sodden head to look for any serious injuries.  
   
“He's just knocked out,” the doctor finally stated. “Still, he better spend the night over at my place. A concussion can be nasty.”  
   
“Yeah, I know,” Jed grumbled. “This is just great. Looks like he's gonna have quite a shiner there too. Just in time for his weddin'!”  
   
“Uh huh,” David agreed. “Come on everyone—give me a hand. Best to keep him prone. It's a good thing all the ladies and children are staying over at Hannibal's place otherwise this would not do at all.”  
   
Jed snorted as they lifted Harry up and began the procession towards David's house.  
   
“What's Trish gonna think 'a this?”  
   
David gave a wry smile. “She's used to this. You spent plenty a hung over night at our house as I recall.”  
   
“Yeah well, I suppose ya' got me there.”  
   
“Did you bring a change of clothes with you Jed?”  
   
“Oh yeah. Beth always insists,” he answered.. “Why?”  
   
“Because you smell like a brew house on a Friday night,” David informed him. “Which I suppose is fitting, considering.”  
   
“Oh yeah,” Jed conceded. “Maybe my wife does have a point. Heyes and I are so used to travellin' light that I just don't think about bringin' extras.”   
   
“Yes, married life changes us all,” David prophesied as he readjusted his hold on an arm. “I do wonder about this upcoming union. I hope Harry knows what he's getting into.”  
   
Jed snorted. “I don't think Harry ever knows what he's gettin' into. He do have a knack for landin' on his feet though. Maybe it's Isabelle we need to be worryin' about. Harry's not the easiest person in the world to live with.”  
   
“I don't think any of us are,” Lom commented from his leg position. “These two just might be what the other one needed.”  
   
“You got a very good point Lom,” Jed agreed. “All we gotta do is get him to the church and make sure he stays standin'. Oh jeez, he will be awake by then won't he?”  
   
“I'm awake now,” came an irritated grumble from the guest of honour. “and I can hear everything you're sayin'.”  
   
Everybody laughed and the unusual procession came to a halt.  
   
“Hey ya' Harry!” Jed greeted him as they hauled the groom to his feet. “How ya' feelin'?”  
   
“Could be better, Kid,” Harry grumbled as a hand came up to his bruised eye. “What happened?'  
   
“You got into a brawl,” David informed him candidly.  
   
“What?” Harry was indignant. “A Bannerman man never brawls.”  
   
“Well you sure did tonight!” Jed told him with a chuckle. “Or at least, ya' tried.”  
   
“What do ya' mean?”  
   
“It's just that ya' didn't get very far,” Jed explained. “Your two friends there got into a fight with Wheat and you tried to jump in and help.”  
   
“Oh,” Harry commented as he rubbed his jaw. “Did I?”  
   
“Yessir, you jumped in real quick.”  
   
“No, I mean, Did I help?”  
   
“Oh.”  
   
Everyone looked the other way.  
   
“Well boys,” Kenny perked up. “Since our cargo is now awake, I think I'll be heading back to the hotel. See you fellas in the morning.”  
   
“Yeah, alright Kenny,” Jed nodded. “We can all meet up for breakfast.”  
   
“Sounds good to me,” Lom agreed. “I'm sure Martha is back at the hotel by now. So, I'll be seein' ya' later boys.”  
   
“Oh, yeah okay Lom,” Jed was looking disappointed, but then smiled over at David.  
   
David sighed. “Come on Harry, let's get you back to my place for the night.”  
   
“Well what do ya' mean?” Harry asked as he tripped over his own feet. “I got me a room at the hotel, I'll just be...”  
   
“No ya' don't Harry!” Jed grabbed an arm just as Harry was about to fall on his face.  
   
“You're spending the night at my place,” David informed him. “You took a nasty knock there.”  
   
“That's awfully nice of ya',” Harry slurred and he allowed himself to be assisted over to the doctor's abode.  
   
 xxx

 

“Shhh, quiet,” David complained as they tried to get Harry settled. “I don't want to wake up Trish.”  
   
They had managed to get Harry settled in the guest room and with him sitting on the edge of the bed, Jed was attempting to pull off the detective's boots.  
   
“Who's Trish?” Harry asked.  
   
“My wife,” David whispered. “and I'd appreciate you keeping it down.”  
   
Harry dropped his gaze to his groin. “It is down. Hey, just what are you insinuatin'? This is the eve of my weddin' and you think I'm gonna....”  
   
“Shhh, Harry!” Jed told him as he held the taller man back from attacking the doctor. “He meant 'be quiet'! We don't want to wake Trish up,”  
   
“Too late,” came the voice and the light from the doorway. “What in the world are you boys doing?” then she stepped back and waved her free hand in front of her face. “Oh my goodness! You reek of beer! Just how much did you drink?”  
   
“Ah, that's me.” Jed admitted. “Ah, a pitcher of beer fell on me.”  
   
“How did you manage that?” Trish asked quite reasonably.  
   
“Somebody knocked over the table that the pitcher of beer was on and it kinda' landed on me.”  
   
“Knocked over the table?”  
   
“A bit of a fight broke out,” David explained. “Nothing major, but Harry here did get knocked out so I thought it best he spend the night here with us.”  
   
“Oh yes?” Tricia asked. “How quaint.”  
   
“I think I'll be gettin' along home. Or at least over to Heyes' place,” Jed commented as he inched towards the door. “I'll see ya' all in the mornin'. Bright and early?”   
   
“Yeah Jed sure,” David agreed. “You come for breakfast.”  
   
“Yeah, okay.” Jed smiled as he slipped past Tricia and the look in her eye suggested that he better get out while he could. “'Night.”  
   
xxx  
   
Beth was up early on the morning of the wedding. Despite her insistence that she was fine on her own, she couldn't help but feel a little uneasy spending the night by herself. She woke up a number of times and on one occasion could even hear a distant thunder storm rumbling its way along the mountain range. Normally she enjoyed hearing the thunder, but not this time. This time it only made her feel even more lonely. She admonished herself for being such a sissy and how ashamed she should be, calling herself a rancher's daughter. Thaddeus beginning to cry and wanting attention almost came as a relief.  
   
Once he was fed she settled him into the smaller bassinet and took the whole bundle with her when she went to the barn to feed the horses their breakfast. They had been left out on the pasture all night as usual during the summer months, but all three were still waiting eagerly by the fence for hay to be thrown in for them. The grass this time of year was dry and didn't hold much nutrition so anything extra they could get, they were happy for.  
   
Beth coughed a little bit as she filled the bucket from the well and hoped that she wasn't coming down with anything. Even T.J. seemed restless and kept rubbing his eyes as though he were still sleepy. The air did feel awfully dry this morning and even the horses were snorting and coughing with the dust that was getting stirred up around their hay.  
   
Picking up the bassinet with one arm and the bucket of water with the other, she waddled her way back into the house and settled in to make herself some coffee and a quick breakfast. That done, she began to hum a little tune to herself for company as she gathered together the dress and other items she and Jed would be needing for the wedding later that day. The plan was to take the carriage to the Double J and meet up with her folks there and then they would all head into town in her father's larger six seater carriage. Then they would all come home that evening and make sure all the animals got tended to. It was going to be a busy day.  
   
Thaddeus started crying again and rubbing his eyes. Beth hoped he wasn't going to be a problem during the ceremony. It'd be just like Jed's son to be good right up until the wedding day and then turn on the tears at the most inappropriate times. She sighed and rubbed her own throat. It was dry and scratchy and again the thought that both she and T.J. might be coming down with a summer cold added to her concern.  
   
She was feeling uneasy and decided it had nothing to do with being out here on her own. Something wasn't right and hearing the horses becoming restless outside in their pasture quickly added to her angst.  
   
She stepped out onto the porch and seeing all three horses pricking their ears in the same direction, she followed their gazes and her heart was instantly in her throat. What had been a bright sunny morning, promising clear blue skies and late summer warmth was now turning dark and ominous. A horizontal streak of orange haze silhouetted the mountain range and thick smoke hung heavy in the sky. A slight change in the wind's direction brought the strong scent of burning wood.  
   
One of the horses neighed shrilly and all three galloped madly around inside their enclosure. They came up to the gate near the barn and nervously circled there, coming into a natural passage with heads and tails up and nostrils blowing.  
   
Beth didn't waste any time. She ran to the barn and grabbing a halter and lead shank she went to the gate of the pasture and slipped in between the planks of the fence. Daisy, recognizing her as her human moved towards her, looking for comfort and reassurance. Beth had to push her away to save herself from being trampled and Daisy did back off but still hovered close. Beth slipped the shank over the filly's neck, then placed the halter on her head and quickly led her out of the pasture.  
   
The other two horses tried to follow, but Beth was quick to shut the gate on them. The last thing she needed was two horses running wildly around the yard while she was trying to hitch the filly up to the surrey. Beth ran to the barn with Daisy trotting along beside her. She slid the large main doors open and thanked Jed for getting the surrey all lined up and easy for her to back the horse between the shafts and get the harness in place.  
   
The two horses out in the pasture galloped frantically back and forth in front of the gate. Why was only one of them being taken from this enclosure? Were they to be left behind to face the fire on their own? Karma called out to her daughter and Daisy answered back. She fought against Beth, wanting to return to her mother, but Beth called her to task and though still sweating and trembling with fear, the golden filly listened to her.  
   
It took all of five minutes for Beth to harness the horse to the surrey, double checked that Daisy was securely tied and then ran into the house to grab T.J. The baby was crying and rubbing his now red eyes but Beth didn't stop to worry about that. She grabbed the bassinet along with the ever ready 'diaper bag' and quickly left the house.  
   
She ran back to the barn, placed the bassinet on the floor in front of the driver's seat and returned to the pasture gate. She slid the bolt open and pulled the gate wide, allowing the two frantic horses to run loose. They headed straight to the barn, thinking that there would be shelter for them there but Beth was right behind them and grabbing the buggy whip, she chased them out and sent them galloping down the dirt track that led off the property.  
   
Daisy was frantic in her desire to join up with them. She reared against her tethering and tried to jump forward but the shank and the brakes on the surrey anchored her in place. She let loose a deep and angry bellow as her feet scrambled on the dirt floor of the barn, digging ruts and sending debris flying into the air. She wanted out! She wanted to join up with the other horses and she couldn't understand what was holding her in place.  
   
Beth became afraid for her son's safety not having considered the possibility that Daisy would fight so violently to get free. The filly reared again, fighting against the tethering and tried to pull back but the surrey again prevented her from moving. She lunged forward in her frustration and came down on her knees. Beth was afraid she was going to fall over and become entangled in the lines but the filly was back on her feet in an instant and stood, trembling and with legs splayed as she tried to figure out her next move.  
   
Beth took advantage of the momentary lull in the storm. She unsnapped the shank and quickly climbed onto the driver's seat of the surrey. Picking up the lines, she made sure she had a solid hold and then released the brake.  
   
Daisy stood still for a moment, not realizing she was now loose. Beth clucked to her and gave her rump a slap with the line and the filly crouched down on her hind quarters and then lunged forward. She reared up and burst from the barn, her feet scrambling to find their stride. Finally they did and she was into a gallop, neighing loudly for her mother to wait for her in their head long dash towards the Double J.  
   
xxx  
   
“J.J.! Sally!”  
   
Belle came down the steps of the front porch and scanned the yard stretching out between the house and the two barns. Ellie came running over with a happy smile and wagging tail, hoping to get some attention. Belle smiled down at her and scratched the dog's ears, not being able to resist the canine manipulation.  
   
“Where have those two gotten to now?” she asked the young hound dog. “You were suppose to be looking out for them.”  
   
Ellie barked and began dancing around in her excitement. She jumped up onto the porch then turned and scrambled down the steps again only to turn tail on the matriarch of the household and push herself under the porch steps.  
   
Belle sighed, shaking her head. That dog still hadn't developed any sense. She turned her eyes back towards the first barn and spied her husband stepping out into the morning light.  
   
“Jesse! Have you seen your son?”  
   
Jesse smiled at the suggestion of ownership.  
   
“I thought he and Sally were with you,” Jesse answered. “Isn't it time we got ready for town?”  
   
“Yes, it is!” Belle sounded exasperated. “That's why I'm looking for them!” She coughed quite unexpectedly and rubbed her throat. “My the air is dry today. Hopefully we'll get some rain soon.”  
   
“Hmm,” Jesse nodded as he approached. “I thought I heard thunder during the night, but if there was it sure didn't bring any rain with it.”  
   
A muffled yelling along with some small dog yapping coming from under the porch interrupted the weather report and both parents looked back towards the steps, quite sure that they recognized the source of the protesting. The yells and the yapping got louder as the butt end of the hound dog came into view and then began to wiggle its way backwards out from under the porch.  
   
Jesse started to laugh as Belle rolled her eyes. Ellie continued to pull backwards until a tawny head of white blond hair came into view quickly followed by flailing hands and protesting curses. Sally crawled out of her own volition but was still looking slightly incensed at their play time being interrupted. Belle's eye brows rose in disapproval of the language that was coming from her son's mouth while Jesse simply laughed louder. The two small dogs started running in circles, yapping their protests at having their game interrupted.   
   
Once the boy was fully removed from under the porch, Ellie let him go and began barking and dancing around, expecting appreciation for a job well done. Belle quickly stepped forward, grabbed her son by the collar and hauled him to his feet before he could scramble back under the steps again. Sally kept her distance, not wanting to bring the wrath of her grandma down upon her head.

Belle was too focused on her son,  
   
“Look at you!” Belle complained as she began brushing dirt and spider webs off his face and hair. Only then did she take note of Sally trying to be inconspicious. “Both of you! Really Sally! I expected better behaviour from you.”  
   
Sally ran a toe through the dirt and looked down at the ground. “Sorry Grandma. We didn't mean any harm.”  
   
“What is it about the dirt under porches that so attracts my children?” Belle complained hypothetically.   
   
“Aww Ma!” came the vociferous protest. “We was just playin'! Bad dog Ellie! I thought you were my friend!”  
   
Ellie's expression dropped in disappointment. She thought she had done good.

“Now don't you go blaming Ellie!” Belle reprimanded him and the tail started to wag again. “She was doing her job. Unlike you, young man. You know we have a wedding to go to today.  
   
“I don't wanna go to another stupid wedding!” Jay complained. “I don't even like Harry.”  
   
“Manners!” Jesse reminded his son as he gave the dog a good scratching for doing her job. “He's Mr. Briscoe to you.”  
   
Jay began to pout. “I don't wanna go to another weddin'!”  
   
Belle gave a frustrated sigh. “What are they teaching you at school?” she asked. “My goodness, you'd think we were still living out in the middle of nowhere.”  
   
It was at this point that Ellie started to bark again, only this time it was not joyous and playful. It was serious and she meant business. Her hackles went up and her barking took on an urgency as she glared into the distance.  
   
All four humans followed her gaze and then they all froze as fear trickled down their backs. The horizon to the east was glowing with more than just the morning sun. The sky took on a hazy look from the unnatural heat and distant smoke blurred the details.   
   
Jesse broke out of the trance first.  
   
“Belle, grab some necessities from the house,” he told her. “I'll get Monty hitched up and you and the children get into town as quickly as you can.”  
   
“Yes, of course Jesse,” Belle agreed and turning the suddenly cooperative Jay around she powered him up the steps to get things organized.  
   
Jesse began running to the barn. “Ben! Ben, get out here!”  
   
The hired hand heard the urgency in his boss' tone and was out of the first barn before Jesse even got there.  
   
“What's up Mr. Jordan?” Ben asked.  
   
Jesse gestured to the east. “Fire!”  
   
Ben paled at the word even before he turned to see the distant haze for himself.  
   
“We'll get Berry and Monty out of the pasture,” Jesse ordered. “You saddle up Berry and ride into town as fast as you can. Spread the warning as you go but don't leave the road. The word will spread fast enough. I'm sending Belle in with the carriage.”  
   
“What about you?” Ben asked as they grabbed halters and made a run for the grass pasture. “You can't stay here!”  
   
“I can and I will,” Jesse stated. “I'm going to protect this property for as long as I can. We may have to turn the stock loose to fend for themselves if the fire gets too close. Beth and Jed's place is right in the path of it. Dammit!”  
   
The horses were anxious, not only from the smell of smoke on the breeze, but also because of the humans' behaviour. They were snorting and wild eyed, but they trusted their people and as Jesse and Ben approached the chosen horses, both Monty and Berry allowed themselves to be haltered and led dancing out of the gate.   
   
Indeed everyone else in the pasture wanted to come and join them, feeling the need of the company of their human caregivers. But Jesse closed the gate on them and left them where they were for the time being. The last thing he wanted was his prime horses trapped inside a barn if the blaze got this far.  
   
Ben and Jesse both ran to the barn with their horses trotting along behind them. It barely took Ben five minutes to throw a saddle on Berry and as the gelding danced and pivoted, the young man swung aboard and booted the horse into a gallop towards town.  
   
It took Jesse a little longer to get Monty hitched up to the surrey but by the time he was done, Belle and the two children were ready to go and waiting for him.

Jesse grabbed the baggage that Belle had quickly thrown together, then lifted his son and hoisted him up onto the seat. Sally clambered aboard in the back as Jesse turned to his wife.  
   
“Get into town as quickly as you can,” he told her needlessly. “I'll do what I can to secure our home until we get more men out here to stop this thing.”  
   
“Yes Jesse, alright,” Belle agreed, but her eyes were fearful and she couldn't bring herself to let go of her husband's sleeve. “What about Beth? She and T.J. are still out at their place!”  
   
“I know,” Jesse assured her and took her into an embrace. “I'll get warning to her if she doesn't already know.”  
   
Ellie began to bark again and both people followed her direction. Three horses were galloping towards them as fast as they could go. Even in the dust, it was clear, one liver chestnut, one golden palomino and one flashy grey came into the yard full speed ahead.  
   
Beth was pulling with all her might to get Daisy to stop, but the filly had her blood up and the bit was in her teeth. All she wanted to do was get back into her familiar pasture with all her buddies and leave that nasty burning smell behind her. She followed Karma and Percy right through the yard and up to the pasture gate where Buck, Fanny and Spike were anxiously welcoming them.  
   
Monty started to dance and wanted to join in with the small herd as it galloped past him, but just like with Daisy before him, the brake on the carriage was holding him in place. Being older and wiser and more settled in his mind than the young filly, Monty knew when he was secured . Even so, he trembled with fear and every nerve was fired up and ready to run.  
   
Jesse ran forward and catching up with the run-away filly, he grabbed her bridle and pulled her away from the gate.  
   
“Are you alright Beth?” he called to his daughter.   
   
“Yes Papa!” Beth assured him. “but there's fire out on the range!”  
   
“Yes, yes I know,” Jesse assured her. “You'll have to get into town with your mother. Pick up whoever you can along the way, but don't leave the road. You hear me?”  
   
“Yes Papa.”  
   
“Good!”  
   
Opening the pasture gate, Jesse allowed Karma and Percy to gallop into the safety of a familiar enclosure and familiar friends. The five horses then galloped off to the far end of the field before turning and making sure nothing was chasing them.  
   
“What about the horses?” Beth asked as she turned Daisy away from the gate. “We can't just leave them here!”   
   
“Don't worry about them!” Jesse told her. “You just get yourselves and the children safely into town. If the fire gets too close I'll turn the horses loose. Buck's an old range horse, he'll know what to do.”  
   
T.J. was still crying just to make sure that everyone was aware of how unhappy he was at the treatment he had been receiving this morning. Not only were his eyes and throat burning, but he was being jostled and jerked around in his bassinet without any concern for his comfort and peace of mind. He wailed his protests and yet his mother continued to ignore him.   
   
Beth, with her father's help, got Daisy straightened out and facing the direction of town just as Monty came up level to them. Sally was crying because Fannie was not coming with them and she was certain the fire was going to get her beloved horse. J.J. was busy keeping the two little dogs in the back seat of the carriage with him, thinking that by some miracle his parents wouldn't know they were there.  
   
Jesse hurried over to his wife and coming up onto the step, he leaned in and gave her a quick hug and kiss.  
   
“Be careful Jesse!” Belle told him.  
   
“I will,” Jesse assured her as he stepped back to the ground. “You take care as well. Go quickly and stick to the road!”  
   
“Yes!” Belle nodded and with tears in her eyes, she released Monty's mouth and the little pacer took off like a shot from a Sharpe's rifle. Daisy was not far behind him.  
   
xxx  
   
“Harry, sit still.”  
   
“This is insulting!” Harry complained. “A man doesn't wear make-up!”  
   
“He does if he don't want his bride ta' know he got into a fight the night before his own weddin',” Jed pointed out after a sip of morning coffee.  
   
Harry turned his head to respond to that but Tricia, with a sigh of exasperation, grabbed his chin and turned him to face her again.  
   
“Please Harry, sit still!” Tricia insisted. “I'm almost done, then no one will be able to tell you have a black eye.”  
   
“But what about tonight?” Harry asked, most indignantly. “Isabelle will know when we, when we...well you know.”  
   
“Let's just get through the ceremony first Harry, alright?” Tricia suggested as she patted on a bit more foundation. “I have a feeling Isabelle will be so relieved that she finally snagged....I mean found the right fella that she won't care about a black eye.”  
   
“Yeah Harry,” Jed contributed. “Women are funny that way. It's not that ya' got a black eye, it's you ruinin' her big day by showin' up with it that'll get her upset.”  
   
Running feet interrupted this discussion as Nathanial galloped down the hallway and into the kitchen. He pulled up a chair and expected to be instantly fed. Then his little brow frowned in confusion.  
   
“Whatcha puttin' make-up on a man for?” he asked quite logically and then began to giggle. “I ain't never seen a man wearin' make-up before!”  
   
“Good heavens Nathan,” Tricia commented as she patted powder into the foundation. “what in the world is Miss Carlyle teaching you in school? You know better than to speak like that.”  
   
“Why?” asked Jed. “What was wrong with what he said?”  
   
“See?” Harry expostulated before Tricia could answer. “Even the boy knows that men don't wear make-up! This is downright embarrassin'!”  
   
Tricia ignored him as she leaned back to admire her application.  
   
“There! What do you think Jed?”  
   
Jed leaned over and scrutinized his friend's face.  
   
“Well?” Harry asked when Jed wasn't forthcoming.  
   
Jed smiled. “Yeah, it looks good. I mean aside from the eye itself lookin' a little red, the rest of it looks great.”  
   
“Let me see!” Harry demanded, suddenly all curious about the outcome.  
   
Tricia handed him her little mirror and Harry gave himself a thorough scrutiny.  
   
“Oh yeah, that does look good,” he agreed, then brought his finger up to poke at the skin and flinched at the pain that caused him.  
   
“Don't touch it!” Tricia told him with a laugh. “You'll wipe off all the make-up!”  
   
“Where did ya' learn how ta' do that?” Jed asked. “And if you tell me that David makes a habit 'a punchin' ya' then I think I'll just go outside and shoot myself.”  
   
Tricia sent him a look but her retort was cut off by a voice from the hallway.  
   
“I resent that,” David commented. “Being a doctor, if I was going to hit my wife I would know how to do it so it wouldn't show!”  
   
“Oh yeah, 'a course,” Jed responded. “What was I thinkin'?”  
   
Harry looked back and forth between the two men, not quite sure if they were serious or not. Tricia's next comment put his mind at ease.  
   
“Oh stop it you two,” she scolded as she began to clear away her make-up detritus. “David knows full well that I honed my skills with a make-up brush by helping some of the unfortunate ladies over at Flo's place. I feel so sorry for those girls, some of them get beat up so badly. I know Carl tries to stay on top of it and so does Flo! Nothing against her, she treats her girls very well, but some of the clientele—well, you just never know.”  
   
An awkward silence followed that statement as bad memories flooded back into Jed's mind of a time when he was one of those unsavory clients at a whore house. Harry and Nathan who were both equally ignorant of that long past incident looked back and forth between the others wondering what the discomfort was all about.  
   
“Oh Jed, I'm sorry,” Tricia was truly apologetic. “I shouldn't have brought that up. I'm getting to be as bad as Miranda when it comes to putting my foot in my mouth.”  
   
Jed smiled. “Yeah well, that's alright Tricia. What's done is done. Can't go back and change it. I'm glad you're able to help those ladies out.”  
   
A loud wailing coming from the back bedroom caught everyone's attention and the mood was broken.  
   
“Oh dear,” David commented. “Sounds like Eleanor wants her breakfast.”  
   
“I want my breakfast!” Nathan seconded.  
   
“Me too!” Jed agreed with a laugh.  
   
“Well, if everybody else is eating!” Harry piped in.  
   
“Oh good heavens!” Tricia complained with a laugh. “I'll take care of Eleanor, David if you could get some bacon on. I don't suppose your family will be here for breakfast will they Jed?”  
   
“I kinda' doubt that,” Jed agreed. “It's not that they have far to come, but you know what it's like gettin' them young'uns corralled and dallied up for these things. I'm sure J.J. and Sally will be givin' Belle a run for her money.”   
   
“I'm sure,” Tricia commented as she disappeared down the hallway to tend to her demanding daughter.  
   
The loud clanging of the school bell stopped everyone in their tracks.   
   
“What's that racket all about?” Harry asked. “It ain't a school day.”  
   
Outside they heard a horse galloping along their street and Joe's voice yelling out as he rode by. “Everyone to the schoolhouse! The south range is on fire! Everyone to the schoolhouse!”  
   
David was the first to react, running to his office to grab his emergency medical bag while Jed was on his feet and had Nathan up in his arms in an instant. Tricia quickly scooped up her complaining daughter and hurried back down the hallway towards the kitchen, but she stopped at the open door of her husband's office.  
   
“C'mon,” said Jed, encouraging her to keep moving. “Let's all of us get to the schoolhouse. We'll find out more over there.”  
   
“David!” Tricia called out protectively, “I doubt you're going to need medical supplies yet!”  
   
“I'm grabbing some essentials just in case!” came his voice from the office. “I'll be right there. You get going.”  
   
Jed draped an arm over Tricia's shoulder, nodding to her to come with them as the group exited the house. Harry sat where he was and stared with some disbelief at the retreating back of his best man.  
   
“But,” he loudly protested to the empty room. “today's my weddin' day!”


	3. San Francisco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes and Miranda arrive in San Francisco  
> Heyes and Silky burn some bridges  
> Miranda learns something surprising about her previous husband

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adult content

San Francisco

 

Finally the train pulled into the San Francisco depot and the platform was soon filled with a colorful array of swirling summer dresses and gentlemen's attire as passengers disembarked the cramped quarters of the steaming conveyance.  
   
Heyes gave a hand to his wife to assist her down the steps and both stood to take in their surroundings. Heyes was grinning with the excitement of being in a big city again. Brookswood was fine and dandy for raising a family, and Denver offered some big town entertainment when the desire took hold, but nothing could beat the hustle and excitement of San Francisco.  
   
Even above the loud voices on the platform and the noise of the locomotive they could hear the clanging of street cars and the yelling of vendors attempting to draw in customers to their wares. They were so mesmerized by the sights and sounds around them that a fellow passenger had to politely ask them to move so everyone else could step down off the passenger car.  
   
Heyes was quick to apologize and with a hand placed in the small of his wife's back they moved on towards the holding area to retrieve their luggage. They didn't need to concern themselves with those details though, because on approaching the off-loaded mountain of trunks and bags, the couple was deftly intercepted.  
   
“Mr. and Mrs. Heyes?” came the squeaky inquiry from a dimple faced lad.  
   
Once again Heyes felt a slight chill go down his spine at the casual use of his name, but he smiled and covered the discomfort instantly.  
   
“Yes.”  
   
The lad grinned with relief. His boss had sent him on this important errand and he had been stressing all the way here that he was going to mess it up.  
   
“I'm Eli, sir,” the lad introduced himself. “Mr. O'Sullivan sent me to meet you.”  
   
“Oh! Well that was nice of old Silky,” Heyes grinned. “His investments must be doing well these days.”  
   
Eli creased his brow in confusion but then simply accepted the comment at face value.  
   
“Yes sir,” he agreed, after all, guests of Mr. O'Sullivan were never wrong. “I've already loaded your bags into the back seat and Mr. O'Sullivan suggested that I give you a short tour of the city. He has been detained and cannot receive you right away. Anywhere you would like to go, I'll be pleased to drive you there.”  
   
“Ah!” Enlightenment dawned. “That's why he sent you to get us. Didn't want us showing up at his front door while he was conducting business.”  
   
“I thought Mr. O'Sullivan was retired,” Miranda commented. “Perhaps he's not well.”  
   
“Oh, he's alright,” Heyes assured her. “I can't remember a day when Silky was ever sick.”  
   
“Yes, but he is getting older Hannibal,” Miranda persisted. “William never got sick either until....well, perhaps we should stay at a hotel.”  
   
“Oh no!” Eli was instantly concerned. This would not look good for him if he returned without his passengers. “That won't be necessary ma'am, he's just umm, busy.”  
   
“See?” Heyes was all smug. “He's just busy. Let's go for a ride.”  
   
Miranda had been hoping to get situated so she could refresh herself but it looked as though a ride around town was inevitable.  
   
“Alright,” she consented, then brightened up as a thought occurred to her. “Let's go down to the wharf! I've always wanted to go down and walk around the fish mongers and the shops but William would never let me. Said it wasn't safe!”  
   
“He was right,” Heyes told her. “It's not safe. I should know, Kid and I honed our pick pocketing skills down there. A fine lady such as yourself would make a tempting target.”  
   
Miranda snorted most unladylike.  
   
“All the more reason why it would be safe!” she pointed out. “Who better to escort me than an ex-pickpocket who knows all the tricks of the trade. Besides, it'll be fun! Come on Hannibal! You are far too protective sometimes—it'll be fun!”  
   
Heyes and young Eli exchanged glances and she renewed her assault.  
   
Grabbing her husband's arm she shook him playfully. “Oh come on. Don't be such a fuddy-duddy. We don't have to get out of the carriage!”  
   
“Fuddy-duddy!?” Heyes looked incensed.  
   
“Yes!” She increased her hold on his arm and began pulling him towards the indicated carriage. “Let's go!” 

“Alright!” Heyes gave in and sent a quick smile to their escort. “To the fish mongers my good man!”  
   
The couple settled into the plush interior of the elegant carriage while Eli set about his duty of directing the impressive team of matched grays out into traffic. Heyes' eyes sparkled with memories as he went back to the time when living high had been taken for granted. Being under Silky O'Sullivan's protection and tutelage had given the orphans a sense of security and acceptance which had been gone from their lives for many a year. Now it felt good to be riding in one of Silky's opulent carriages again. It felt safe.  
   
Miranda was just as pleased as her husband to be in such plush interiors once again. Sometimes she missed the high life she had enjoyed with William and the freedom it had afforded her. Being able to innocently indulge in it again now was a pleasant surprise. She was also looking forward to going down to the wharf just as much to be able to sample the 'forbidden zone' as it was to sample the wares!  
   
The heavy smell of the ocean mingled with fish as the carriage moved steadily into the lower levels of living and commerce along the stretches of the busy wharf. Miranda's eyes never diverted from the view out her window. The many fishing boats and cargo barges that were tied up and bobbing with the waves held their own special magic. Men and boys hauled baskets filled with various seafood and sacks filled with salt. Other cargo lined up along the bustling wharf, awaiting in turn to be either moved to the shops and vending tables, or to be loaded on board a waiting barge to be sent to who knows where. Dogs ran around the legs of the tables and of the people with equal attention to both dexterity and avoidance in their hopes of finding or stealing some tasty morsel that might come within range.  
   
The excitement was contagious and Heyes found himself enjoying the sights and sounds just as much as his wife was. The ships' bells and horns from further out in the bay, men calling out to co-workers and women's shrill voices cutting through it all. It was a busy place and Eli had his hand full just to keep his team of horses moving forward and not trample anybody.  
   
“Oh, look at that!” Heyes pointed out his window with glee. “Ole' Barney's ship repair and supplies is still in business. Probably not ole' Barney anymore though. He was an old geezer thirty years ago. There's the sail maker's shop!” He actually started giggling. “Kid and I nearly got caught by the local constabulary breaking into that place. I wasn't quite so good at picking locks back then. Oh Silky was so mad, he tanned both our hides.”  
   
“He punished you for stealing?” Miranda was surprised after all she had heard about her husband's time living here.  
   
“No!” Heyes was adamant. “For nearly getting caught! Said we had behaved like silly amateurs and he was embarrassed to have us living under his roof. The tongue lashing we got from him hurt more than the whipping.” He smiled ruefully. “Compared to the punishments we got at the orphanage, Silky was a soft touch. It was his disapproval that hurt. We never tried to pull off a half-assed stunt like that again. Funny thing when I look back on it now, Jed and I weren't young children anymore. We could have easily defied Silky yet we didn't. We had too much respect for him—and fear!”  
   
“How old were you?” Miranda asked, all curious about her husband's younger years.  
   
Heyes sighed and crossed his arms in contemplation. “Oh gee. I don't think I was twenty yet but getting close. I certainly wasn't a child.” He smiled wistfully. “Lindy. I wonder where....”  
   
“Who?”  
   
Heyes snapped out of his daydream. “Oh. Just a girl I knew back then. She was....Oh, look there!” He was suddenly animated and thumped on the roof of the carriage to get Eli's attention. “Stop! Pull up here, let us out!”  
   
“What?” Miranda asked. “I thought you didn't want us to get out....”  
   
“No, but look!” As soon as the carriage had stopped on the side of the street Heyes opened the door and stepped out. “It's old Bannack's fish market.”  
   
“It's hardly surprising there would be a fish market on the wharf,” Miranda commented dryly as she stepped out of the carriage. “What's so special about it?”  
   
“Yes I know, but...” Heyes sighed as fond memories came wafting back. “Old Mr. Bannack moved here from Europe with his family. I don't suppose he's still running the place, but he had a son, Yannack....”  
   
“Yannack Bannack?” Miranda queried.  
   
“Yeah yeah!” Heyes missed the jest. “I wonder....just wait here a moment will you Eli? We'll be right back.”  
   
“Are you sure, Mr. Heyes?” Eli was getting that uncomfortable feeling again. “It might not be safe...”  
   
“No, it'll be fine. We won't be long.”   
   
Heyes hurried his wife over to the shop entrance, ignoring the looks coming at them from the less fortunate of the local inhabitants. Miranda stayed close to her husband. Wanting to come here to view the busy wharf from the safety of the carriage was one thing, but once out on the street she no longer felt quite so comfortable. She then understood why William and now Hannibal had been reluctant to let her come here, and certainly not by herself!  
   
She barely made contact with the hungry eyes staring at her and kept a solid hold on her husband's arm as he led her into the shop. Once inside they both stopped and took in the interior. It smelled heavily of fish which was hardly unexpected but still an onslaught to olfactory senses that were not accustomed to it. There was one customer at the counter. An older woman, hunched over and pointing a gnarled finger at a fine fat fish displayed on ice behind the glass case.  
   
Heyes took a closer look at the man behind the counter and could have sworn on a bible that he was looking at old Mr. Bannack. Then he heard the voice and his heart did a little skip. It was Yannack, all grown up and taking over from his father in more ways than one. Heyes was a bit shocked. The fellow conspirator who had joined him and Jed on more than one nightly escapade had been thin and weedy, with a shock of dark unruly hair that refused to be tamed. Now Heyes found himself looking at a middle-aged man with a balding head and a large belly. It was fortunate that a customer was keeping Yannack busy as Heyes needed a moment to adjust his perception.  
   
“There you go, Mrs. Goldstein,” Yannack was saying as he handed the wrapped fish to the old lady. “Nice fresh fish for dinner tonight.”  
   
“Yeah yeah,” Mrs. Goldstein muttered as she took her package and paid for it. “with the prices you charge it's a miracle we can eat at all.”  
   
She shuffled past the two people standing behind her and headed out the door still grumbling under her breath at the injustices of life. Heyes smiled at his old friend as he and Miranda approached the counter.  
   
“Unhappy customer?” he asked the proprietor.   
   
“No no,” the shopkeeper smiled and waved a dismissive hand. “She's always complaining about something. But she keeps coming back so it can't be too....” the light came on in the eyes and then they widened as the mouth stopped in mid sentence and simply hung there for a moment. Heyes! Is that you my old friend?”  
   
Heyes grinned until his face seemed to split and both men began to laugh as Yannack came around the counter and they embraced one another with much back slapping and excited greetings. Miranda stepped back to watch this re-union in some amazement. Her husband kept so much to himself. Why had she never heard of this man before?  
   
“You're looking good,” Heyes lied as the two men separated.  
   
“Oh ho! I look like my father,” Yannack countered. “You and I; we were both skinny lads last time I saw you. You're still skinny. What's the matter my friend—your wife not feed you enough?”  
   
“Hey!” Randa took mock offense. “It's hardly my fault that the man won't eat!”  
   
Heyes chuckled and brought his wife forward.  
   
“This is Miranda,” he introduced her. “my wife. Miranda this is Yannack, an old friend.”  
   
“Yes, I gathered that much.”   
   
Miranda extended a hand for shaking and was taken by surprise again when Yannack laughed and pulled her into a fish reeking hug.  
   
“It is very good to meet you, Miranda!” he told her. “Heyes needs a good wife! You have children, yes?”  
   
“Yes,” Heyes answered while Miranda found her footing. “we have a daughter. She is not with us on this trip though.”  
   
“What a shame,” Yannack complained. “I would love to meet her. Come, come you must come in for a drink.”  
   
“Oh, well we....”  
   
“Gilda!”  
   
“What you want?” came a woman's voice from behind a curtain.  
   
“Come out and mind the counter for a bit! I have an old friend drop by for a visit.”  
   
“What you think?” came the voice back again. “I'm back here doing nothing? I cook and clean and raise your children and you think I'm your servant? You think I can drop everything and come when you bark?”  
   
“Gilda! Come! Meet my friend and his pretty wife.”  
   
“Oh, he has a pretty wife does he?” came back the retort. “That is why you want to visit eh? I know what you men are like. Always gawking!”  
   
Miranda wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel embarrassed, but her husband was smirking playfully and when the curtain parted and the woman in question put in an appearance, she relaxed and took it all as fun bantering.  
   
A large woman with a round red face came out to greet them. Belying the previous complaining, Gilda smiled a huge greeting and came over to hug both of them.  
   
“So, you are friends with this lazy sorry excuse for a husband eh?” Gilda asked them.  
   
“Yes,” Heyes admitted. “Yannack and I go way back.”  
   
“Gilda, this is Hannibal Heyes and his wife Miranda.”  
   
Gilda's brows went up. “Oh! So you do exist. I was beginning to think my husband had too much wine in his gullet. Saying how he knew Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry when they were all just skinny lads! Ha! I can't remember when Yannack was skinny! He must be dreaming, I thought. He is losing his mind, I thought. But here you are. Tall and handsome and such nice broad shoulders. I think I should have married you eh? Instead of this slob of a man, eh?”  
   
“Oh go on Gilda! You make our guests uncomfortable with your prattle.” He put an arm around his wife's shoulders and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Come on, mind the counter for a bit while I visit with my friend. Perhaps when Mia gets back from the docks she can take over and you can join us.”  
   
“Yes yes,” she said as she patted her husband's arm. “the wife's work is never done. Do this do that. Go on, have your drink and your visit. I will stay here and do as I'm told.”  
   
Miranda smiled at this debate, suspecting this woman wasn't likely to do anything she didn't want to do. She was a powerhouse and very possibly the backbone of not only the family but of the business as well.  
   
“Come come!” Yannack insisted as he ushered his company through the curtain. “Don't mind Gilda, she's just a big tease. Come, come, sit.”  
   
The couple found themselves stepping into a small but comfortable sitting room. The arm chairs they settled into were old but well kept and the visitors felt at their ease in this homey place. Yannack busied himself uncorking a liquor bottle and getting glasses from the small hutch by the dinning table.  
   
“You like some whiskey Miranda?” Yannack asked. “I know some ladies find it too strong. Some wine perhaps?”  
   
“No thank you,” Miranda declined. Since her pregnancy even wine tended to make her feel queasy. “Some tea perhaps?”  
   
“GILDA!” Both guests jumped. “Come and make some tea for our guest!”  
   
“What!?” came the indignant response. “You tell me to mind the counter, now you tell me to make tea! What, you think I am two people!?”  
   
“Oh come now! You always say I can't boil water worth bathing in!” the husband countered. “we will hear the door open if someone comes in. Come make tea!”  
   
“Fine, fine! I make tea! My goodness you are a contrary man. You drive me to drink you know you do! I was a slim pretty little thing before I met you, now look at me!”  
   
“Oh my dear, you exaggerate! You were always a big ship of a woman!” And he gave his wife a playful swat on her ample behind as she ploughed passed.  
   
The large woman gave a girlish squeak as she headed for the kitchen and set about her task. Heyes was laughing into his hand by this time but he swallowed it down and presented a neutral expression as his friend handed over a glass of whiskey and then sat down himself.  
   
“It is so good to see you again my old friend,” Yannack told him and raised his glass to tap.  
   
Heyes obliged and the two glasses clinked.  
   
“Likewise. I wasn't even sure if the shop would still be here. It's good to see you doing well.”  
   
“Aw well, it was mainly Papa who got this business going,” Yannack confided. “You know what a hard working man he was.”  
   
“Yes,” Heyes chuckled at old memories. “and we sure made his life miserable at times.”   
   
“Yes we did!” Yannack agreed. “You would get me into so much trouble....”  
   
“Me get you into trouble!?” Heyes was offended. “As I recall you were more of a scoundrel than we were! You knew where all the open doors were.”  
   
“And you knew how to unlock the ones that weren't open!”  
   
“You knew what shops would be empty at night!”  
   
“And you knew how to get people out if they weren't!”  
   
The entrance of the woman of the house put an end to this debate as she placed the tea tray down on the side table.  
   
“You two! You sound like silly little boys again.” she accused them. “Women are here, time for more civilized talk. Here my dear have some sweet tea.”  
   
“Thank you,” Miranda smiled greatfully. She did feel a little out of place with this line of bantering.  
   
“So, how is that kid doing?” Yannack asked as his wife settled into her favorite comfortable chair. “He still think you the best thing since pickled herring?”  
   
“What do you mean?” Heyes asked, totally perplexed.  
   
“Oh come! He always look up to you. That boy do anything you say.” Yannack chided. “We were all surprised when he take off on his own like that.”  
   
“Yeah well, that's all over and done with now,” Heyes mumbled. “Things are good. He's married now too, has a little boy.”  
   
“Ah a son!” Yannack clapped his hands with great pleasure. “God has blessed him.” he winked slyly at Miranda. “Maybe next time eh? Maybe you give Hannibal a boy, eh?”  
   
Miranda gaped wide-eyed at this strange man. Even she was taken aback by his forward comments. Even though she was usually the one who inadvertently overstepped etiquette she found it disquieting when someone else did it.

“You embarrass her!” Gilda scolded her husband. “Leave her alone. Nothing wrong with girls!”  
   
“You ought to know!” Yannack retorted. “You gave me five of them before you saw fit to give me a son!”  
   
“You have six children?” Miranda was further astounded. “Good heavens, how do you manage?”  
   
“What do you mean?” Gilda asked.  
   
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Miranda back pedaled. “Oh dear. I meant no offense. I'm always doing that. I didn't mean....it's just, it seems like quite a handful when you have the business as well.”  
   
Miranda sent a pleading look over to her husband in the hopes of him bailing her out. Heyes was once again stifling a laugh.  
   
“That's alright,” Gilda assured her with a pat on her knee. “the older ones look after the younger ones. Running a business needs lots of hands to help out. There are no idle children here that is for sure.”  
   
“Ah but they go to school too though,” Yannack pointed out. “Many children here do not go as their parents think they do better learning the family business, but that is foolish eh? You remember my Papa Heyes! He insist I learn! Of course he insist I learn Yiddish and that is not much help in America, but he meant well eh?”  
   
“Yes, he meant well.” Heyes agreed. “He was a good man.”  
   
“Yes. Good man,” Yannack nodded. “And I learn enough to run this business. My children will learn more! I'll not have them running around in the streets like rats, stealing to survive. They start out good eh?”  
   
Heyes nodded quietly as Miranda sipped her tea.  
   
“You have the right idea Yannack,” he said. “Stealing never did anybody any good.”  
   
“There's my husband putting his foot in his mouth again!” Gilda scolded him. “Look! You make our guests uncomfortable!”  
   
“Me!?” Yannack argued. “You call me a fool, say I'm delusional! I tell you I know them! I read good enough english to read the paper! I say that is my old friend Hannibal Heyes and they railroad him! They send him to prison for life! You say I don't know what I'm talking about—that I'm making it up! But you see—here he is in the flesh! I make up nothing!”  
   
“Yes yes! You can hardly blame me for that with all the old fish stories you tell around here,” his wife countered. “How am I suppose' to know when you speak the truth? You're enough to drive a woman to her death you are! Look at me...I was a slim pretty little thing before I married you—this is what you do!”  
   
“Pah!” Yannack waved her complaints away. “Looking at your mother I should have known what I was getting into! A fishing barge if I ever saw one.”   
   
“You are your father's son no doubt about that...” Gilda retorted.  
   
“Ah, perhaps it is time we left,” Miranda commented discreetly. “after all Mr. O'Sullivan is probably waiting for us by now.”  
   
“Oh, yeah,” Heyes perked up as he was reminded of previous commitments. “Miranda is right Yannack; Silky is waiting for us.”  
   
“Oh my goodness!” Yannack waved both arms in the air. “That old squeaking hinge still alive? He was an old man back when we were running card games in the old Sutter's barn.”  
   
Heyes chuckled again. “Yeah, he's still alive. And just as rusted and squeaky as ever. We should go.”  
   
“Ha ha! Still scared of him eh?”  
   
“No!”  
   
“Yes you are!” Yannack laughed. “Ahh, I don't blame you though. He knew how to put the fright into us boys that's for sure. But come, come. You take some fish with you.”  
   
“What? Oh no, Yannack we couldn't do that,” Heyes protested.  
   
“What do you mean?” Gilda demanded. “What is wrong with our fish?”  
   
“No, nothing wrong with it, it's just...”  
   
“Then you take some, yes?”  
   
“Come come,” said Yannack as the small group once again headed out to the shop area. “You pick whatever you want. It's fresh. It's good.”  
   
Now it was Miranda's turn to be hiding a smile. They weren't going to get out of this one.  
   
“At least let us pay you for it,” Heyes insisted.  
   
“Oh Heyes, you insult me!” Yannack threw back at him. “I haven't seen you in twenty years or more. Who knows when I see you again. Come. You take some fish. My gift to you, yes?”  
   
Heyes sighed and exchanged a quick look with his wife. She twinkled a smile at him and he knew he was beat.  
   
“Alright,” he agreed. “what would you suggest?”  
   
“Anything you want. It's all good.”  
   
Heyes was at a loss. He wasn't familiar with seafood anymore. When he and Jed lived here they had eaten various types of fish regularly but he had never really known what type of fish it was. It was just what ended up on his plate at supper time. He sent a pleading look to his wife.  
   
“What would you like?” he asked her.  
   
She smiled and leaned in to take a look at the wares for offer. She was pleased with what she saw as it was all fresh but she was going to have a hard time deciding. Then she saw them and her smile grew. Miranda straightened up and met Yannack's laughing gaze. He knew what she had spied.  
   
“The oysters,” she said.   
   
“Ah yes! Very good choice. They are fresh off the boat this afternoon. You have a very smart wife there Hannibal. She knows what's good.”  
   
Heyes grinned proudly but then frowned as he watched Yannack fill a bucket with a large quantity of the gnarly shelled morsels.  
   
“I don't think I've had oysters before,” he admitted. “I don't think we ever had them when we were younger.”  
   
“No no, not likely,” Yannack agreed as he layered ice on top of the crustaceans. “these beauties are wasted on children.”  
   
“How do you cook them?”  
   
Yannack smiled wickedly “Some like them raw.”  
   
Heyes looked disgusted, then scared. “Raw!?”  
   
“Don't worry,” Randa laughed. “I'm sure Silky's kitchen staff know how to prepare them. Don't worry about it. I think you'll like them.”  
   
“Oh well....”  
   
“You will like them,” Gilda assured him. “They are good with cream and mild cheese when you can get it. You will be back for more!”  
   
“There you go,” Yannack sealed the bucket and handed it over. “It was good to see you old friend. You must come back again—and bring your children next time eh?”  
   
“Yes I will,” Heyes grinned and the two men hugged. “Goodbye Yannack. You take care of your wife now, you hear?”  
   
“Ah her! She look after me!”  
   
“That is God's honest truth for a change!” Gilda agreed. “You have yet to find your own way into the kitchen without the smell of food to get you there!” Yannack rolled his eyes as Gilda handed a small container of pickled herring over to Miranda. “Here you go dear. Good herring. Make your blood rich and strong. And you take care of your man here, he's a good man yes?”  
   
“Yes, he is,” Miranda agreed and then found herself encased in another fishy hug. “Thank you for tea and for the oysters!”  
   
It was with some relief that Heyes and Miranda finally made their way out of the fish shop only to be brought up short by Eli trying valiantly to keep the local ragamuffins off the fine carriage. The young driver looked up with his own look of relief when he saw his charges finally emerge.   
   
“Thank goodness!” he exclaimed. “I was sure you had been kidnapped and shipped out to sea! Mr. O'Sullivan would have skinned me alive if I had lost you!”  
   
“Sorry about that Eli,” Heyes truly looked contrite. “The reunion took a little longer than I expected.”  
   
“Go on!” Eli waved his arms at a couple of persistent vagabonds. “Off with you!”  
   
Heyes chuckled and motioned the two boys over to him.  
   
“How old are you?” he asked them.  
   
The two boys exchanged looks through the fish film that permanently bathed their flesh.   
   
“What'cha wanna know fer?” asked the oldest of the two.  
   
Heyes shrugged. “Just curious,” he said. “I'm willing to bet you two bits a piece that you're older than ten.”  
   
The oldest puffed up to his full height.  
   
“You lose mister,” he announced proudly. “I'm only nine years, ten months and twenty-two days old. And he's only eight. You owe us four bits!”  
   
“Are you sure you're not ten yet?”  
   
“Are you welchin' on a bet?”  
   
“No, just want to be sure.” Heyes straightened up and digging into his pocket he came out with seventy-five cents. “Here, keep the change.”  
   
The boy snatched the coins up faster than a cat on gutting day and two pairs of skinny bare legs made a dash for home turf.  
   
“You shouldn't encourage them Mr. Heyes,” Eli told him. “It'll only bring them back for more.”  
   
“Boys gotta eat,” Heyes mumbled to himself.  
   
“Yes, but still...”  
   
“Here you are Eli,” Heyes hoisted up the bucket of oysters along with the smaller container of herring. “Mind these for us will you? Don't want them smelling up the cab do we?”  
   
“Oh!” Eli was first surprised then disgusted with the fish offereings he found himself saddled with.  
   
“It's time we headed for home Eli,” Heyes announced. “to Mr. O'Sullivan's!”  
   
“Yes, of course.”  
   
“My lady, your carriage awaits.”  
   
“Why thank you, kind sir. It is indeed time to depart.”  
   
   
The carriage made good time along the streets with the horses trotting with interest towards their own respite. Miranda's eyes were alight with pleasure as she watched the architecture change from wood and seedy drabs to stone and brick homes and fine classy businesses. She found herself pointing out landmarks along the way and laughing with pleasure at the memories coming back to her.  
   
“There's Lily's Tea Shop!” she exclaimed. “Oh I can't count how many wonderful hours I have spent in that place!”  
   
'Oh yes?” Heyes asked. “William brought you to San Francisco often did he?”  
   
“Fairly often, yes,” Miranda agreed. “He had a lot of business meetings in this town. It was fun for me because all the men brought their wives and we'd spend the day shopping and gossiping while the men went about their business.” She sat back with a dreamy look on her face. “Oh the shops here Hannibal—they are amazing. Such beautiful dresses and hats. It was so much fun coming to San Francisco!” 

“Hmm,” Heyes grumbled as he looked out the window. “A lot more to offer than Brookswood I suppose.”  
   
Miranda sat back and eyed her husband, realizing she had hurt his feelings.  
   
“Well, in some ways,” she admitted. “but I wouldn't want to live here permanently. It was a fun treat, like now, with us.”  
   
“Hmmm.”  
   
“It certainly was nice though, when Amy opened that hat shop......” but Miranda stopped in mid-sentence and her expression dropped. “What a shame it all turned so sour.”  
   
“Yes,” Heyes agreed. “I'm surprised it hasn't been taken on by anyone else by now.”  
   
“It is my understanding that Mr. Calhoune has placed an advert in other papers in the hope of enticing someone to come and take it over,” Miranda informed him. “The building just sitting there empty is costing him money to maintain. He needs to get a new tenant in there.”  
   
Heyes grinned at that prospect. “Serves him right for being a banker.”  
   
Miranda sniffed playfully. “You and your peeves! I'm hoping he will find someone. It'll be nice to have a hat shop right in town again.”  
   
“Yes, I know,” the husband acceded. “I know you all enjoyed it. A little bit of the city life coming to town.”  
   
“You enjoyed it too,” his wife teased him. “I think you spent just as much time in that hat shop as the ladies did.”  
   
“Hmmm,” Heyes grumbled again. “I don't like to be reminded how gullible I was. I wouldn't think you would want to go back to that time either.”  
   
“No, you're right,” Miranda nodded. “It's sad the way it all turned out. But it was nice having a hat shop right in town!”  
   
Heyes was back to grinning and decided that like his wife, he would move beyond the bad and remember the shop for the good it had brought.  
   
“Yes it was,” he agreed charmingly “Hopefully we'll have another one soon. Oh, here we are.”  
   
The carriage pulled up in front of the elegant home of one of the most gifted grifters Heyes had ever known. It was a mansion even more impressive than Soapy's townhouse and he looked to his wife hoping to see an animated reaction. He couldn't help a slight twinge of disappointment when she seemed unfazed by the splendor.

He stepped down and offered his hand to the lady while Eli stepped down from the driver's seat and then escorted them through the archway and over to the front steps.   
   
“I will take your luggage around to the side entrance and it will be delivered up to your room,” Eli informed them. “I'll also make sure the kitchen gets the bucket of oysters and...these other things as quickly as I can.”   
   
Heyes smiled. “Thank you Eli. I'll let Silky know you did a good job.”  
   
“Thank you sir,” Eli nodded and dutifully pulled the door bell. “I'll leave you for now. Have a nice evening.”  
   
“Thank you,” Heyes smiled. “I'm sure we will.”  
   
Eli quickly returned to the carriage and climbing aboard, clicked to the eager team and took his leave without a backward glance.  
   
“What was that all about?” Miranda asked with some concern.  
   
Heyes sighed. “Oh, Silky has kind of a reputation for being a bit of a tyrant.”  
   
“Really?” Randa asked with surprise, “Beth seemed to like him. But you are nervous, aren't you?”

“I am not.”  
   
“You are.”  
   
“Silky's an old friend,” Heyes pointed out as he stared up at the opulent double front doors. “why would I be nervous?”  
   
Miranda raised an eyebrow at him just as those same doors banged open and she felt her husband jump slightly and almost take a step back.  
   
“Well it's about time you two got here!” came an old man's high pitched complaint. “Where is that young idiot? I'm gonna thrash his hide fer keeping ya' out that long!”  
   
“Hi'ya Silky,” Heyes smiled. “It's good to see you again. Nice to see you haven't changed.”  
   
“Uh huh,” Silky's eyes turned to the woman standing beside his protege and as usual, his stance softened.  
   
“Silky, this is my wife, Miranda. Miranda this is Silky O'Sullivan.”  
   
Miranda smiled and extended her hand. Silky took it and gave it a gentle squeeze.  
   
“Well ain't you a looker,” the old man admired the view. “and you must have some smarts about ya' too, if you can keep up with this rascal.”  
   
“Yes,” Miranda agreed politely. “he certainly does keep me guessing.”  
   
“Yeah,” Silky agreed with a quick look back to Heyes. “me too. Well, come on in. Don't just stand there on the door step lookin' like peddlers. Harold! Drinks in the parlor before dinner!”  
   
“Yessir,” came the response from somewhere within the corridors of the large house.  
   
Fifteen minutes later the three people were seated in comfortable armchairs and enjoying some refreshment. Miranda was sipping on a hot cup of tea and quietly regretted not being able to join the men in a glass of brandy. But as much as she would like one, considering her current condition she knew the consequences and had showed some self-restraint.  
   
She sat quietly, watching these two old 'friends' attempt to find their footing. Obviously it had been a number of years since their last meeting and there still seemed to be some animosity between them. She had never seen her husband this unsure of himself; as though he were an adolescent expecting a reprimand yet resenting it at the same time.  
   
“How is your tea, young lady?”  
   
Miranda was startled out of her musings and pulling her eyes off her husband, she smiled over at their host.  
   
“It's lovely,” she assured him. “and please, call me Miranda. Or Randa, or Randi or Hannibal's crazy wife.....” She smiled at her small tease in the hopes of relieving the strained atmosphere. It failed.  
   
Silky simply nodded and returned his scrutiny to Heyes.  
   
Heyes fidgeted but had finally had enough.  
   
“You know Silky, if you're still angry with me there was no need for us to come here.”  
   
“Of course there was a need!” Silky insisted. “I met the Kid's wife, it's only proper I should meet yours as well. Never thought neither one of ya' would actually get married.”  
   
“Thought we'd both end up in prison, is that it?” Heyes snarked. “Well you got your wish with me, didn't you? Or are you just mad that you weren't the one who sent me there?”  
   
“Oh get off your soapbox!” Silky complained. “You always were one for dramatics. That was years ago and I didn't mean it anyway.”  
   
“Then why are you mad at me?”  
   
“I ain't mad at ya'!”  
   
“I'm definitely feeling a cold shoulder,” Heyes contradicted him and turned to his wife. “Aren't you feeling a cold shoulder?”  
   
Again Miranda was taken by surprise at being included in this apparent bit of history. She opened her mouth to respond but didn't get the chance.  
   
“Stop being an ass,” Silky reprimanded him. “that's my job. And besides, you're making your wife uncomfortable.”  
   
“I'm making her uncomfortable?” Heyes retorted. “You're the one who's being a grouch. If it's not about the Philpotts incident, then what is it?”  
   
“Well....” Silky scowled now that he was being pushed into a corner. “alright, since you insist. I'm more frustrated at ya' than I am mad.”  
   
“For what?” Heyes was the one getting frustrated now. “What did I do?”  
   
“Nothin'—and everything!” Silky retorted. “Dag blast it! What was the big idea of gettin' yourself sent off to prison like that? That looks bad on me too ya' know. My protege, the one who was suppose to be so smart! Yeah. Too smart fer yer own good, that's what you are. And I saw it comin'! You were always gettin' up ta' somethin' over yer head, thinkin' you was invincible. Ya well it finally came round and bit ya' in the ass didn't it?”  
   
“What? You mean you're saying that was my fault?” Heyes was incredulous.  
   
“Ya didn't see the Kid go to prison did ya'?”  
   
“That was just by fluke,” Heyes insisted. “It could have gone either way. If the Kid had gone to trial first then he would have done the time and I would have got off....”  
   
“Aw balderdash! Ain't I taught you nothin'?” Silky countered. “There are no flukes. You was always pushin' the envelope Heyes and you would'a kept on pushin' it until ya' got burned.” Silky sighed regretfully and shook his head. “I seen it comin'. Right from the time ya' was a wild, headstrong teenager. You always knew best, you were always better than anybody else.”  
   
“Well I was!” Heyes insisted.  
   
“That's besides the point!” Silky snapped at him. “Ya' get yer head so swollen ya' can't see where yer puttin' yer feet! I tried gettin' ya' outa that streak, knock some caution into ya' but you'd have none of it. Always goin' yer own way.”  
   
“I'd win the play though,” Heyes reminded him quietly. “I never lost one.”  
   
“And that was part of the problem,” Silky continued. “If you'd a lost one or two maybe you'd a been a bit more humble. But you was too good so you got ta' thinkin' that you was untouchable.” Silky shook his head with regret. “It was inevitable you was gonna do time. I just hope it knocked some sense into that silly head 'a yers cause goodness knows I tried and never got anywheres.”  
   
“Was he really that good?” Miranda asked to avoid an awkward silence.  
   
Both men picked up from their musings and looked over at her.  
   
“Was he that good?” Silky squeaked. “Dang it, he was the best I ever had here. If I could'a kept him under my wing fer a couple more years he'd a done alright. But no! He had to take off after the Kid.”  
   
“I am sitting right here you know,” Heyes pointed out. “And I suppose you blame me for Jed taking off too.”  
   
“Of course I do!” Silky renewed his attack. “You could'a stopped 'em. That boy would do anything fer you. You could'a talked 'em into stayin' but ya' didn't even try.”  
   
“I did try Silky,” Heyes insisted. “I knew we had it good here. But you know that Jed could get just as bull headed as...”  
   
“As you!” Silky finished for him.  
   
“Well actually I was going to say as bull headed as you but I think you get my point. I tried to stop him Silky but he was having none of it. Why do you think he waited until I was gone for a few days? He knew I'd try to stop him.”  
   
“Ya well,” Silky relented. “It's hindsight now. But I'm still mad at ya' fer goin' ta' prison.”  
   
Heyes practically threw up his hands in defeat.  
   
Suddenly Silky changed direction and turned his attention and his smile to Mrs. Heyes.  
   
“So Miranda have you ever been to San Francisco before?”  
   
“Oh yes!” Miranda perked up and smiled. “Yes, my first husband used to come here all the time on business trips. I didn't accompany him every time but when I did we always enjoyed our stay here. Such an active, vibrant town.”  
   
“Your first husband?” Silky's brows went up, anticipating a scandal.  
   
“Randa's a widow, Silky,” Heyes informed him.  
   
“Ahh. How unfortunate for him. He was a business man?”  
   
“Yes,” Randa answered, thankful that they had quickly moved on from the topic of her husband's demise. “Railroads and banking mostly, but also real estate and investing.”  
   
Silky's cackling laugh took over the conversation. “Railroads and banking? Hee hee hee! The poor man must have spun in his grave when you married this reprobate!”  
   
Miranda smiled slyly at her current husband. Heyes was looking decidedly uncomfortable. Again.  
   
“I don't know,” Miranda said. “They might have been on opposite sides of the fence but there are enough things in common between them. They might have even gotten along if they both weren't so bull headed.”  
   
“See!” Silky pointed a finger at the younger man. “Even your wife knows yer bull headed!”  
   
Heyes almost had a retort on his lips but was interrupted by the butler.  
   
“Dinner is ready sir.”  
   
“Oh, thank you Harold. Come on, let's eat!”  
   
   
Heyes looked down at the steaming serving of shucked oysters that Harold had just placed in front of him. They looked innocent enough and the aroma was pleasing but still he hesitated. Miranda smiled at him as she cut one of her oysters in half and delicately placed it in her mouth. Her eyes instantly widened as she chewed and sucked in air to cool the morsel. She forgot all about table etiquette as she sent a sparkling smile over to the master of the house  
   
“These are delicious!” she stated through the mouthful. “I've never had oysters prepared this way. Oh Hannibal you must try them.”  
   
Heyes followed his wife's example and cutting one in half tentatively placed it in his mouth. Chewing cautiously he finally allowed his expression to soften and he nodded in appreciation.  
   
“These are good,” he admitted. “Too bad we can't get them in Colorado.”  
   
“Ya, that would be a mite awkward,” Silky agreed. “but you'd have ta take my chef with ya cause nobody does a baked oyster dish like Franco. Anybody else an' it'd just be a...a disappointment.”  
   
“I believe you are quite right about that,” Randa agreed. “I've never had them like this before. They're wonderful. My compliments to Franco.”  
   
The oyster appetizer was quickly dispensed with and the main meal of duck a l'orange along with root vegetables and wild rice took over the table.  
   
“Yer husband was into banks and railroads, ya' say?” Silky picked up the conversation where they had left off in the sitting room.  
   
“Yes,” Miranda confirmed.  
   
“And he came to San Francisco on a regular basis?”  
   
“Yes, quite regularly.”   
   
“You were never interested in what the banks and railroads were doing Silky.”  
   
“Keep outa this Heyes,” Silky snapped at him. “I was speakin' with your wife.”  
   
Heyes brows went up in hurt surprise. He glanced at his wife and Randa sent him a nervous smile. She didn't mind speaking with Silky but she didn't want to insult her husband by doing so.  
   
“Perhaps we should wait for...” Miranda began but was cut off.  
   
“No, that's fine,” Heyes assured her. “You two go ahead.” He went back to assaulting his duck.  
   
Miranda didn't like the look of this. She knew Hannibal was getting irritated but Silky diverted her attention once again.  
   
“Ah, don't worry about him,” Silky dismissed Heyes' mood and kept his attention on the more enjoyable vision. “Why don't you have some wine? A glass or two of a nice Pinot shouldn't cause you any distress.”  
   
“Excuse me?” Now it was Miranda's turn to be surprised.  
   
“Hee hee hee!” Silky cackled with delight. “You don't think an old geezer like me can tell when a lady is in the family way?”  
   
“Oh.”  
   
“Silky, you're embarrassing her,” Heyes complained.  
   
“Oh I am not!” Silky denied. “She's a twice married lady! What's she got to be embarrassed about?”  
   
“It's hardly proper to...”  
   
“Since when do you care about what's proper?”  
   
“Oh Hannibal, it's alright.” Miranda put a placating hand on his knee, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I'm not embarrassed. I'm overjoyed. And yes, Mr. O'Sullivan I will have a glass of wine.”  
   
“Good! Harold!”  
   
The wine arrived and once everyone at the table had a glass in front of them Silky raised his and the other two followed.  
   
“To the new young'un,” he said, giving the toast. “I hope he don't give ya' the same grief his pa gave me.”  
   
Heyes sighed in surrender. He smiled at the toast and clasped Miranda's hand where it still rested on his knee. She smiled over at him as she took her first sip.  
   
“Hee hee!” Silky clapped his hands. “Young lovers! Never thought I would see the day when a young, intelligent lady would be willing to put up with your bullheadedness.”  
   
Heyes' smile grew. “She is one of a kind, isn't she?” he agreed.  
   
“Yes siree, she sure is,” Silky agreed. “just the kind of lady to appreciate the sapphire necklace I put aside for her. I didn't give it to ya' earlier cause I wasn't sure if it would fit. A fine set of jewels like that need to be partnered up with the right lady and I couldn't be sure until I met ya'. But you'll do, yes siree. You'll do just fine.”  
   
“Oh now Silky, there's really no need...”  
   
“A course there is!” Silky insisted. “I gave the Kid's new wife a necklace, a course I'm gonna do the same fer yours. Ahh, Beth is a pretty little thing but she's young and hasn't developed her own style yet. Presenting her with a necklace was easy. But a more mature lady such as yourself, well you already know who you are. The jewels have to fit the lady.”  
   
As if on cue Harold showed up carrying a small oblong box which he set down on the table in front of Miranda. She was truly taken aback by this generous gift. She was hardly aware of the men in the room as she opened the box and admired the glittering stones.  
   
“Oh my!” she exclaimed. “They're beautiful! But I have nothing to wear them with. The dress I brought with me for the concert tomorrow is blue but I would so love to wear these!”  
   
“Ah, fiddlesticks!” Silky fluffed it off. “You go to the shops tomorrow and get yourself a gown that will do. One of my housekeepers can go with you. Melissa may be from the wrong side of the wharf but she knows a thing or two about ladies fashion I can tell you!”  
   
“But that is too generous!” Miranda insisted. “You've already bought us the tickets and now this lovely necklace. You really shouldn't...”  
   
“He can afford it Miranda,” Heyes commented as he began to rise from his chair. “Here, let me help you put them on....”  
   
“You jest sit right back down there!” Silky ordered him as he himself got up to do the honours. “I'm the one givin' her the necklace so I get the privilege!”   
   
Heyes settled back into his chair trying hard not to feel irritated. As the old man clasped the string of bright green emeralds around Miranda's neck he allowed his gnarly hand to caress the delicate neck and shoulder of his lovely guest. Miranda was too excited by the sparkling gift to really notice but her husband felt a rise of protective jealously assault him. He pushed the feeling down, knowing that Silky was just needling him and by the time Miranda turned laughing eyes to her husband again, his countenance was one of pleased acceptance.  
   
The meal continued with happy conversation which focused more on the positive aspects of Heyes' life now. No more talk of prison or of past mistakes but of the present and of course the future. Growing families and a new detective agency tickled Silky's fancy and he wanted to know all the details of Heyes and the Kid's latest exploits both at home and abroad. The fact that Heyes and the Kid had both risked their lives over a silly horse amused the old man no end.  
   
Brandy and more wine were taken as all retired to the smoking room for the evening, though no one smoked in consideration of Miranda's condition. She smiled appreciation for that gesture, knowing what cigar smoke would probably do to her stomach at this point.  
   
Upon entering the subdued room with the plush carpeting and comfortable arm chairs the two gentlemen prepared to settle themselves in and relax, but politely waited for the lady to be seated first. Miranda had instantly been seduced by the beautiful, star-studded view of the bay the large back window afforded them from their idyllic location.  
   
“Oh look,” she breathed as she gazed out at the night sky and the shimmering water. “That is a sight I have not seen before.”  
   
Hannibal came up and slipped an arm around his wife's waist and looked out over the view with her. He smiled in memory of days long ago when he was in this same room and saw this same view but was too young and too full of himself to appreciate the magnificence of it.  
   
“It is lovely, isn't it?” he whispered.  
   
“Yes,” Miranda agreed as she leaned against him. “William spoke of views like this when he visited the homes of his business partners, but I never had the chance to see them.”  
   
“You won't find too many more views like that,” Silky crowed. “I've got the best one in town.”  
   
Heyes snorted. Trust Silky to blow his own horn whenever he could.  
   
Miranda looked around at their host in some confusion. 

“Really?” she queried. “But this seems very much like what William described to me. He made me so jealous and yet he refused to let me come with him.”  
   
“And rightly so!” Silky insisted. “No women allowed at our meetings either. Business matters are a man's territory.”  
   
Now Heyes turned away from the view and looked at his ex-mentor.  
   
“What do you mean, business meetings?” he asked. “All your meetings were with fellow confidence players. You never knew any legitimate business men.”  
   
“Of course I did!” Silky was incensed. “How do you think I kept up a convincing cover? I couldn't just be making money running cons or the authorities would have been suspicious. I had to have legitimate business dealings just to cover my more lucrative activities.”  
   
“You never told me that!” Heyes complained.  
   
“Well ya' didn't stick around long enough, did ya'?” Silky snarked. “There was a lot more to this business that you were just too damned impatient ta' learn, and look where it got ya'! You could'a been livin' like this Heyes, you could'a had everything and ya' threw it all away. Leader of the Devil's Ass Gang! Like that was somethin' ta' be proud of!”  
   
“Devil's Hole Gang,” Heyes sniffed.  
   
“Same difference!” Silky snapped. “Still had ya' livin' in the dirt with the lowest class of criminals that God put on this earth. I was offerin' ya' the best....”  
   
“Could we please not do this again?” Miranda asked. “I would much rather hear about these business meetings and just who it was that attended them.”  
   
“You're quite right,” Silky's tone softened. “Enough of this. Water under the bridge, even if ya' did make the biggest mistake of yer life.”  
   
Heyes felt a retort coming again, but Silky quickly moved in and sneaking Miranda out of her husband's grasp, led her over to the comfortable sofa and sat down with her to continue enjoying their after dinner drinks. Heyes sighed deeply and moved over to settle into an armchair while he awaited the onslaught of yet another contrary conversation. Kid never mentioned Silky being this ornery when he and Beth had come to visit.   
   
“There must be other homes in the area with this kind of view,” Miranda continued. “William described it quite accurately and what you have here easily fits.”  
   
Silky was dubious. “Well, could be. I expect your husband was far too young to be at any meetings here. I only deal with the more experienced investors.”  
   
“Miranda's husband was much older than she is,” Heyes put in, then instantly regretted the remark when he saw both people across from him brighten up as the idea struck them simultaneously.  
   
“Really?” was Silky's squeaky response. “Well....what was his name?”  
   
“William Thorton,” Miranda informed him.  
   
Silky's eyes lit up even more and he began to cackle.   
   
“Ole Bill Thorton!? Hee hee hee! Is that a fact?”  
   
Miranda smiled uncertainly and met her husband's gaze. Heyes' jaw was tight in irritation and Miranda frowned slightly as she wondered why he was behaving so defensively. She turned her attention back to her host.  
   
“You knew him?” she asked, almost not believing what was now becoming obvious.  
   
“I'll say I knew him!” Silky agreed. “Shrewdest damn investor I ever knew. Hee hee hee! He helped ta' fund more than one of our little escapades. Helped to give me the retirement I enjoy today!”  
   
“You mean he was involved with...?” Miranda was thunderstruck. “No, I can't believe that William ever did anything underhanded. He was very adamant about staying above reproach. He would never...”  
   
“That's what made him perfect!” Silky informed her. “He was so honest that no one ever suspected that anyone associated with him could be a flim flammer. Ahh, old Bill Thorton. He sure knew his stuff. I remember him telling me he had married a woman much younger than himself. Daughter of a long time friend he said. Yup. We teased him about it no end. Confirmed bachelor we thought and then he up and robs the cradle!”  
   
Heyes was feeling threatened now as well as irritated.   
   
“You mean Miranda's husband was here during the time that Kid and I...”  
   
“No no!” Silky waved off the concern. “He was after you two jumped ship. You never met him.”  
   
“Well that's some relief at least.” Heyes grumbled but Silky didn't hear him, or didn't care.  
   
“I was saddened when we got word of his passing,” Silky admitted. “Hadn't seen him for a couple of years as I was retired by that time but we sure did have some interesting discussions together.”  
   
“Really?” Miranda was animated now, both her hands holding onto Silky's arm, imploring him for more details. “What did you talk about? Did he ever talk about me? Was he really a good investor?”  
   
Silky grinned, pleased with the feminine attention and he easily warmed to the topic.   
   
“He was one of the best I'd ever worked with,” Silky complimented. “Sly. He knew just when to jump in and jump out and he was no man's fool, no siree. I'm sure he left you well heeled, my dear.”  
   
“Well....yes.”  
   
“Lucky for you Heyes!” Silky continued. “Always landin' on your feet, ain't ya'?”  
   
“That wasn't what....”  
   
“Oh please, tell me more!” Miranda pleaded. “I know so little about that side of him.”  
   
“The only fault I found in Billy Thorton is that he was too honest,” Silky continued. “but I suppose nobody's perfect. He was smart enough but I never even hinted that he join the other side of my business because I knew he wouldn't have gone fer it. Probably would have lost him as a friend too.”  
   
“Imagine that,” Heyes grumbled.  
   
“He sure was proud of you though,” Silky continued in his conversation with Miranda. “Hee, hee, always talkin' about his young, pretty wife. Yes siree! We indulged him, yes sir. A man his age getting a young thing to marry him for more than his money—well he has a right to be proud. We kinda chuckled amongst ourselves though, convinced that she couldn't possibly be as pretty as he was lettin' on. But now that I see ya', well he sure weren't exaggeratin'. No sir.”  
   
Miranda was smiling in her bliss.  
   
“He was proud of me?” she asked. “He was such a sweet man. I still miss him terribly.”  
   
“Sweet!?” Silky cackled again. “Well I suppose he was sweet to some. He sure weren't sweet when it come to business though. He was one shrewd wheeler and dealer. You probably could'a learned a thing or two from him Heyes.”   
   
Heyes sent the older man a pointed look but his mood was being ignored.  
   
“How often was he here?” Miranda continued to query. “I know I came with him a number of times, but he did occasionally come on his own. I was so envious when he came to San Francisco without me, I always had so much fun here.”  
   
“Oh well, let me see,” Silky pondered. “I suppose we had meetings twice a year with the proven business men. Your husband I think came here about six times.”  
   
“I'm her husband,” Heyes pointed out. “and I don't remember you holding business meetings here. Where were we when this was going on.”  
   
“You think serious investors want to talk business with a bunch of snot nosed little kids running around?” Silky responded. “I always made sure you boys were off runnin' some numbers or somethin'. Kept ya' outa the way.”  
   
“Oh, no wonder I never met him.”  
   
“I already told ya' he was after yer time!” Silky was losing his patience. “What's with you tonight Heyes? Yer actin' as ornery as a cow that's all blocked up.”  
   
Heyes sighed and tried to bring his irritation back down again.  
   
“I donno,” he admitted. “I think I'm just tired. It's been a long day.”  
   
“It's only 10:00!” Silky complained.  
   
“No, Hannibal is right,” Miranda put in. “We had a late night yesterday and a long day today. We should probably retire for the evening.”  
   
“Oh well alright. If you say so,” Silky reluctantly accepted that. “I'll have Harold show ya up to yer room then.”  
   
“Thank you,” Miranda responded politely and came to her feet.  
   
The two gentlemen quickly rose with her and the evening of visiting came to a close.  
   
Xxx  
   
Miranda sat quietly at the vanity, slowly brushing out her long hair in preparation for bed when she felt rather than heard the presence of her husband standing behind her. A knot of anxiety passed through her when she felt him touch her shoulder. She wasn't concerned about him hurting her but she could feel his frustration and knew that it was time to clear the air, even if he didn't want to.   
   
His fingers took advantage of her long hair brought forward for its nightly ritual and he unclasped the necklace that had still been adorning her throat. He leaned forward to place the jewelry on the vanity and their eyes met in the mirror's reflection. His dark eyes were sharp yet smouldering at the same time and Miranda felt the unease grow in the pit of her stomach. His mood was almost impossible to read. She waited the recommended few seconds for him to make the first move but then took a deep breath and resolved herself to begin.  
   
“What was that all about?” came the quiet query.  
   
She saw the twitch of irritation, the tightening of the lips and his hand dropped from her shoulder.  
   
“What?” came the sharp reply.  
   
She sighed.  
   
His countenance took on a stubborn stance.  
   
She looked away. This was going nowhere.  
   
“Are you angry with me?” she asked quietly.  
   
Silence. She sighed again and turned around on her chair to face him.  
   
“Are you jealous over William?” she asked him. “Is that why you became so angry when your friend admitted to knowing him? That I enjoyed hearing about him?”  
   
“Jealous over a dead man?” Hannibal asked incredulously. “How logical is that?”  
   
“Not very,” Randa agreed. “and yet....”  
   
“Well...he keeps coming up doesn't he!” Hannibal finally blurted out. “It's like there's three people in this marriage. Now Silky actually knew him as well? I feel like I'm inconsequential, like I'm just being waved away like a foolish boy. I know you still love him, I know you do. You've been very upfront about that. But why do you have to keep talking about him? You're my wife now, not his. Why do you keep talking about him like he's still....”  
   
Heyes' voice trailed off and he waved his hand as though to chase the whole discussion away.  
   
“Like he's still my husband?” Miranda finished for him. “And you feel threatened that he's going to suddenly show up in my life again and spirit me away?”  
   
“That's ridiculous!” Hannibal snarked. “Why should I feel threatened by a dead man?”  
   
“Is it because he left me well situated?” she asked him. “Does that anger you?”  
   
“Of course not.”  
   
“Hannibal....”  
   
“Why would I be angry about that?” Hannibal asked reasonably. “In a way it's taken a weight off me, knowing that you'll have an income if anything were to happen to me. It's actually made our lives a lot easier.”  
   
“Yes it has,” Miranda agreed. “but you could still resent it. I can certainly understand it. You're my second husband living off the leavings of my first....”  
   
“Oh well, when you put it that way!” Heyes snarked and began his usual pacing. “And now that you mention it—everyone in Brookswood thinks it's a joke! Some of them even say that's the only reason I married you. Now Silky had to comment on it. Married a wealthy widow huh? You lucky son of a gun! Dammit!”  
   
“Well did you?”  
   
“What?”  
   
“Marry me for my money.”  
   
“NO!”  
   
“Then why do you let it bother you?” Miranda was being too reasonable. “Why can't you just let it go? Relax and enjoy it.”  
   
Heyes stopped pacing and stared at the far wall. Miranda sat quietly. She had also learned that once her husband started talking there was no point in pushing him or trying to control the flow. He would carry on again as soon as he was ready.  
   
“He's always in the background,” Hannibal repeated. “He's always there. Even the house we live in was bought with his money. I should be providing for you and for our children and I'm not. Used to be a $20,000 paycheck was standard fare now I'm lucky if I bring home $20.00 for the week. And now Silky's doing his damnedest to rub my face in it, letting me know just how much better a provider your first husband was compared to me. Just how the hell am I suppose to react?”  
   
“Maybe we both came into this marriage too soon,” Miranda ventured. “I wasn't....I never....I was still in mourning when you came into my life. I wasn't looking for another marriage. I really hadn't had time to let William go and then there you were forcing me to fall in love again.”  
   
“I never forced....”  
   
“Of course you did,” she told him with a quiet smile. “I had no choice. You simply over-whelmed me. I don't blame you for that. You didn't have a choice either. But how do you think I feel? Abi is still alive. If things had gone the way you both had hoped, you'd be with her. How do you think that makes me feel, to be second choice? Abi and Anya are still out there and could come back into your life anytime.”  
   
“Abi has re-married. You know that.”  
   
“Oh so what, Hannibal?” Miranda continued. “You and I both know that marriage doesn't guarantee anything. You've had two children with her. That is a bond stronger than any other.”  
   
“Yes. One who's dead and one who won't even acknowledge me.”  
   
Miranda softened her tone in empathy. “Anya could come around in time.”  
   
“You and I have a child together,” Heyes pointed out, quickly brushing past the painful subject of his previous children. “and another one on the way,”   
   
“I know,” Miranda conceded. “I'm just saying, we both have history with other people.”  
   
“But Abi doesn't invade our lives the way William seems to be doing,” Heyes persisted.  
   
“Of course she does!” Miranda challenged him. “Every time you mention Anya, Abi is in the background. You can't escape it. And once Anya does acknowledge you she'll want to know her father better. She'll be a part of our lives and then of course, so will Abi even if she's just in the background.”  
   
“And you agreed to that.”  
   
“I know I did. And I still do. Your child will always be welcome. I'm just trying to point out that we both have ghosts from the past to deal with. I still love William but I'm in love with you. Doesn't that count for anything?”  
   
“Yes it does,” Heyes admitted begrudgingly. “and I'm very much in love with you. I'm sorry. I try not to let it bother me but then Silky comes along and tells me what a fool I was...”  
   
Miranda got to her feet and coming over to her husband she placed her fingers over his lips.  
   
“Hush,” she whispered to him. “I know that you and Abi had a very....intense relationship. One thing about being with William,” Heyes groaned. “No, no,” Miranda was quick to assure him. “William was a dear man, at least he was to me. But he always treated me as though I were a child or that I might break during love making. To be quite honest, and I feel ashamed to say it, but it got a little boring after a few years. One of the things I enjoy about you Hannibal, is that you're a very...versatile lover. I sometimes wonder if....”  
   
Miranda bit her lower lip, suddenly feeling unsure of how to address this.  
   
“You wonder what?” It was Heyes' turn to push.  
   
“Do I satisfy you?” she asked in a quiet almost fearful voice.  
   
“Of course you do!” Hannibal was surprised at the question. “Why would you think otherwise?”  
   
“Just....you and Abi. I thought....you're both so, oh what's the word....”  
   
“Over-bearing? Domineering? Controlling?”  
   
Miranda gave a nervous giggle and squeezed his arm.   
   
“Yes, alright,” she agreed. “I mean, that friction between you. There was always sparks there, for good or bad. That must have come through in your love making...I just feel sometimes that I don't measure up to that.”  
   
“You measure up,” Hannibal assured her. He hugged her close, feeling her loose and budding form pressing into him. His arousal was instant. “I love making love to you.”  
   
“Yes but, do you ever wish....?”  
   
“What?” he asked as he nuzzled in close.  
   
“Wish I was Abi?”  
   
Hannibal stepped back, suddenly unsure of his footing.  
   
“No. Of course not.”  
   
Miranda's eyes pushed him to be honest. He felt uncomfortable with this line of questioning. He wasn't sure how much he should reveal about a previous lover.   
   
“Yes, sometimes,” he finally admitted. “Abi was, well as Jesse once noted; she always brought out the 'outlaw' in me.” He smiled shyly. “She drove me crazy. She was exhilarating and exhausting both at the same time. But she did help me to get over....”  
   
Heyes staggered to a halt, suddenly fearful of what he had almost let slip. Miranda was no fool though and she picked up on his embarrassment right a way.  
   
“Get over what?” she asked.  
   
Heyes gulped. Damn. Never lie to his wife. Now he'd gone and backed himself into a corner.  
   
“Hannibal?” her voice softened even more. “Get over what?”  
   
Heyes' jaw tightened and he diverted his eyes with some embarrassment.  
   
“I couldn't...” he started and faltered. “Prison nearly destroyed me. When I finally got out I couldn't...well, I couldn't perform with a woman.”  
   
“Oh,” Miranda commented. “is that all?”  
   
“What! What do you mean 'is that all?' I thought I was never going to be able to...you know, again.”  
   
“Oh Hannibal. My sweet Hannibal,” Miranda smiled and caressed his face. “When I think back to our first meeting and just how terrible you looked, it's hardly surprising you'd be suffering from a certain amount of anxiety.”  
   
“I didn't look that bad.”  
   
Randa actually laughed. “You looked like someone in those photographs I saw of the prisoners of war. Those poor men were on death's door. When I saw you I could hardly believe that you could still stand up. I'd never seen anyone look as emaciated as you did that evening.”  
   
“I must have been a wretched sight,” Heyes grumbled. “You were good though, you didn't show how disgusted you were.”  
   
“I wasn't disgusted!” Randa insisted. “Just the opposite. My heart went out to you. You were a wretched sight, but there was something in your eyes, something in your smile that touched my heart. That told me that the man you once were was still in there. That you weren't broken. The minor detail that you 'couldn't perform' during that time is hardly surprising.”  
   
“I know that now,” Heyes told her. “but at the time it terrified me. David assured me it would pass, but it took Abi to really...”  
   
“Yes alright!” Miranda laughed. “I get the picture.” She sobered again and looked deeply into those beautiful chocolate eyes. “I want you to enjoy being with me as much as you did being with her.”  
   
“Miranda I do,” Heyes insisted. “I love you, I love being with you.”  
   
“I know. But over time, if I'm not giving you what you need, if I don't excite you....”  
   
“You do.”  
   
“I'm not a naive maiden,” she needlessly pointed out. “I know that Madam Flo's business stays in business because of married men who don't get satisfaction at home. I don't ever want you to feel that you need to go there. I want to keep you at home. I'm not a porcelain doll, Hannibal. And I certainly don't want you thinking that maybe you got more from Abi that way than you do from me.”  
   
“I don't feel that way,” Hannibal insisted. “We're good together. I don't know why I can't let this jealousy go.”  
   
“I do,” Randa said with a wicked smile. “I've said it before; you're a passionate man. You're also a very controlling man.”

“I am not!”  
   
“You are so! Your frustration this evening was becoming very obvious, then we discovered your friend Mr. O'Sullivan knew William. You said yourself that it made you feel threatened and maybe, just a little out of control. So then you got snarky and let your temper show.”  
   
“That sounds despicable,” Heyes grumbled. “Is that what you think of me? That I'm an insecure and controlling husband?”  
   
“No!” Randa was adamant. “I'm just saying it all finally came to a head. Finding yourself back here with your old mentor who wasn't letting you live down past mistakes, William being brought into the conversation more often than was comfortable for you. Maybe you're a little worried about this pregnancy too, about how it's going to affect our love making.”  
   
“That would be pretty selfish,” Heyes replied. “So now I'm a selfish, insecure and controlling husband.”  
   
Miranda sighed with frustration. This man could be a challenge sometimes.  
   
“I love you,” she told him. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be satisfied. I realize that as I get bigger our love making will be hindered to some degree. But I'm sure we'll manage. Jed and Beth certainly found a way...”  
   
“There we go with the mental images again,” Heyes complained. “We don't need to bring them into this. Besides, there's not enough room in the bed for all four of us.”  
   
Randa chuckled. At least he was starting to lighten up.  
   
“I'm sure we can figure this out on our own,” she assured her husband. “But you need to relax a little bit. Everything happened so fast between us. Marriage and adopting Sally, your new business, now a new baby on the way. There has been a lot for us to adjust to. This trip was suppose to help us relax and enjoy ourselves before the pending explosion. So stop taking everything so seriously, alright?”

Hannibal sighed in resignation. “Okay. I suppose you're right. I suppose this evening was just too much with Silky going on and on about how great a business man William was and how I could have learned a lot from him.....”  
   
“Well, you could have,” Randa smiled. “but he could have learned a whole lot from you too.”  
   
Hannibal smiled then, a true and spontaneous smile that brought his dimples out to play.  
   
“You don't have to feel jealous over William,” Randa assured him. “nor do you have to treat me like I'm going to break, and our baby won't break either. Alright?”  
   
“I know that,” Heyes insisted. “I'm fine. Everything's fine.”  
   
“But there's more to it, isn't there?” Miranda asked him. “It's not just William that got you riled. Something about coming back here and your friend and mentor scolding you. I think you know what it is and you just don't want to say. What are you thinking? What's going on behind those innocent brown eyes?”  
   
Heyes hinted a smile but quickly turned serious again. Miranda was right; his mind was churning but it was also beginning to settle down onto the real issue at hand.  
   
“Silky was right,” he finally admitted. “I blew it, big time.”  
   
“How?” Randa asked. “By not staying here and learning to be an even bigger con man?”  
   
“Yes!”  
   
“Oh, come on...”  
   
“I was good Randa,” Hannibal continued. “I was better than any of them, even those who had been at the game for years. Silky and Soapy both put a lot of time and focus into my education and I walked away from it all. I just had to go in search of Jed. Even at that, I didn't find him and then I was too stubborn and proud to come back here. Too stubborn and proud. My life would have been so much better if I had just stayed put.”  
   
“You can't know that,” Randa argued. “Look at all the experiences you've had, the people you've met and relationships you had a hand in forming. Are you so willing to throw it all away just on a whim? Based on an assumption that things would have been better if only you had made a different choice way back when you were twenty years old? Does Sally, do I and our baby, do we all mean so little to you?”  
   
“No, of course not,” Hannibal was quick to deny. “That's not what I meant at all. I just wish I had made a different choice back then, that's all.”  
   
“The way I see it, having known you now for a number of years,” Randa responded. “is that if it hadn't been Jed running off then it would have been something else.”  
   
“What do you mean?”  
   
“Hannibal,” she gave him an indulgent smile. “One of the first things I recognized about you is that you are a restless spirit. Something would have eventually pulled you away from this life. You would have found it too mundane. Maybe that's part of the reason you went after Jed in the first place, and why you didn't simply come back here afterward. Your own soul was telling you something that you had yet to figure out for yourself. You simply cannot sit still.  
“I don't believe for one minute that you simply fell into being an outlaw. That it was just circumstances. You were drawn to that life like a bear to honey. But you didn't do it for malicious reasons at least not towards the common people. Hurting individuals had nothing to do with it. Oh, I laugh every time I read over the newspaper articles about your trial and how the judge accused you of being a sociopath. He certainly didn't understand you at all. You did it for the challenge, the excitement. The rush of the game. Catch me if you can and be damned.  
“It was only as you got older and you began to realize the harm you were causing others. People who were hard working folks like your parents. Only then did you back off and try to put things right. Unfortunately you were too deep into it by then and turning over a new leaf proved harder that you first thought.”  
   
Heyes snorted. “That's the God's honest truth.”  
   
Miranda smiled at his cynical response.  
   
“Don't be too hard on yourself,” she advised him. “We all make mistakes and hopefully we grow and learn from them. I can understand Mr. O'Sullivan's frustration, I'm sure you were a brilliant student. But he does love you.”  
   
Heyes rolled his eyes. “He sure knows how to show it.”  
   
“No he doesn't,” Miranda intentionally contradicted him. “Oh I know he has a soft side to him, he's being very kind to me. But I wasn't his protege. You were. He surely had high hopes for you.”  
   
“And I let him down,” Heyes grumbled. “I thought we had gotten past all that. We got along fine before the Philpotts episode but after that..I donno, he was so angry. I hoped he would be over it by now. Kid didn't say anything about Silky still holding a grudge, but then it wasn't Kid who came up with the idea. It was my idea and it blew up in our faces. Silky can be a mean old man when chooses to be. No wonder Kid ran out on us.”  
   
Miranda smiled gently as she picked up on a new emotion drifting off her husband. It would seem that this visit to his mentor had stirred up a number of long buried hurts and disappointments.  
   
“He hurt you, didn't he?” she asked quietly. “Jed, I mean. When he left without you.”  
   
She knew she had hit the nail on the head when Hannibal's expression broke and he swallowed tightly. He didn't answer for a moment, not wanting to admit to such a raw emotion. 'Never lie to your wife' sprang to the surface of his thoughts yet again. There were times he wished he had never made that promise to himself.  
   
“Yes,” he finally admitted, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “He broke my heart.” Another swallow followed by a deep sigh and a hand through the hair. “We were the only family we had. We did everything together, went everywhere together. He always listened to me, always did what I told him and.....”  
   
“That was the first time he didn't?”  
   
Heyes smiled ironically. “Yes. I felt betrayed by the one person I thought would never betray me. I lost my love for this game. I was no longer happy here, this was no longer my home. I had to leave and I knew I could never come back and have it be the same again.”  
   
“There, you see?” Randa commented. “You did have good reason for leaving, you just needed to think about it. You had to go.”  
   
Heyes nodded. “Yes. Just like Jed had to go. I came to realize that eventually. Once the pain of his 'betrayal' changed to simply the pain of missing him I could see that he hadn't betrayed me at all. It had nothing to do with me. It was something he simply had to do and now that I understand what was behind it, I can understand why. He was becoming his own man and he needed to be on his own to do that. I guess that was part of why I left as well.” He chuckled sardonically. “Talk about making mistakes though. I fell in with Frank Plummer who ended up being a real back stabber and Jed....well, he's lucky he didn't get hanged.”   
   
“Yes,” Randa agreed. “You two definitely do better together. Oh dear, and now we've left him on his own to organize Harry's wedding.”  
   
“Aw, he's a big boy now; he'll do fine,” Heyes shrugged it off. “Right now I don't want to worry about what might be going on at home. Like you said; we're on our honeymoon.”  
   
Miranda smiled.  
   
Xxx  
   
They lay in the bed together, quietly, softly caressing one another. Hannibal's hands couldn't get enough of her. He cupped her head in his palms as he moved in for a kiss, then ran his fingertips enticingly down her neck and along her collar bone. His other arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close while his traveling hand moved in to caress her breast. He was loving this. He was loving her.   
   
Miranda felt his hands exploring her, her skin tingling with every sensuous touch. She felt his breath on her nose and lips and then tickling her neck as his hand began to play with her nipple. He pulled her body to his and came down on her mouth in a hard, deep kiss. She groaned with his seductions and felt desire rise along with the temperature under the covers.  
   
Hannibal backed off for a moment and slid his hand down to caresses small circles around the slightly extended belly. And he smiled. It was like a safe, protecting a treasure locked deep within, a treasure more valuable than any amount of gold or currency. A treasure that was growing with each passing day. He wanted to open that safe, to play with the tumblers, to seduce the inner workings until they finally surrendered and opened up to his desires. Opened up to share its treasures with him.  
   
Miranda smiled and placed her hand on top of his and they both caressed the ever expanding womb. They shifted slightly and Miranda moved into him, feeling his strength and taking in his scent. She felt his erection press against her thigh and her hand came over to caress his side and slid down over his hips. She dipped into the crease of his groin and carefully took hold of his whole package and pressed her body even more against it.

Heyes groaned between pain and pleasure. He felt the warmth of her hand cradling and gently squeezing his sack. His breath came in quiet jagged gasps as her fingers encircled his shaft at the base and began to gently pump. He leaned in to kiss her, his hand from her tummy quickly traveling downwards until he found her soft warm key hole. He didn't need a combination to open this safe. All he needed was the right key inserted in the right hole and she would succumb to him.  
   
Miranda took hold of him. He was just the right size. Not so big as to intimidate, but still large enough for a woman to know there was no room to spare. She loved the feel of him when he was erect. Loved caressing him and feeling it respond, feeling it wanting her. She felt his fingers searching for her, finding her and pushing inside. She groaned and arched her back, but she wanted more; she wanted to feel his bulk inside her. She shifted so he could settle on top of her and spreading her legs for him, she guided him to her warm and safe entrance. She felt him meld with her and push inside. She was in heaven; she loved him so much.

   
Heyes' fingers caressed her inside wall, feeling the muscles tighten and release in their sensitive arousal. She shifted under him, inviting him to mount her. Her hand, still gently stroking his phallic, led him over to the appropriate entrance and set the head up to strike true. He instantly knew where he was and he had no choice but to go forward. Her warm channel had taken hold of him and pulled him inside without any thought from him. He settled into her, taking her into his arms and allowing her warmth to surround him. He was in heaven; he loved her so much.

   
The following morning, Randa and Hannibal were seated in the morning room enjoying coffee after their late breakfast of herring and toast. Despite retiring early to bed the couple did not actually get any sleep until the early morning hours and they appreciated being left alone until they decided for themselves that it was time to amble downstairs.

Silky had already eaten, but a light brunch was quickly brought out for the couple and they had been left to enjoy their breakfast in privacy although Heyes was beginning to think that the chef was getting back at him for bringing herring into his kitchen. He finished the meal feeling undecided whether he liked the strong flavoured little fish or not. 

Silky joined them later with Melissa in tow and the two ladies became acquainted. The way Silky had spoken of this particular woman, the Heyes' had assumed that she was hardly more than a teenager so it was with much surprise that they were presented with a much older, plumper lady.   
   
“Hello,” Randa greeted her with a friendly smile. “I understand that we are to spend the day together.”  
   
“Yes ma'am,” Melaissa answered her. “and I know all the shops to go to without wastin' no time. Why, we'll get you a fine dress to go with them joowls. Yes ma'am.”  
   
“Oh fine.” Miranda sent her husband an uncomfortable smile but Hannibal just shrugged. “When would you like to go?”  
   
“Why, right now ma'am,” she stated. “But I suggest you bring that necklace with you.”  
   
“Bring it with me?” Miranda's hand went protectively to her throat even though the jewels were not there. “Why would I bring them with me?”  
   
Melissa almost rolled her eyes at the ignorance of the upper crust.  
   
“You want to buy a dress to go with the joowls don't ya'?”  
   
“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “That is the idea.”  
   
“Then you must bring them with you ma'am,” Melissa reiterated. “to compare.”  
   
“Yes, I suppose...”  
   
“Ya' don't need ta' wear 'em,” Melissa assured her. “Just put 'em in yer hand bag.”  
   
“They'll be save enough,” Silky assured his guest. “Everyone in this town knows that Melissa works fer me. Any of 'em try anything they knows who they'll be answerin' to.”  
   
Heyes slipped an arm around his wife's waist and leaned in close to kiss her cheek.  
   
“It'll be alright,” he whispered in her ear. “Silky's right. No one would dare steal from a guest of his.”

“I don't know about that,” Miranda whispered to him. “Those boys on the wharf yesterday seemed awfully interested.”

“Boys being boys,” Heyes shrugged it off. “Besides, the wharf lives by its own code, that's why it was really not safe for you to go down there. Especially on your own. But in the shopping district? No one would dare.”  
   
Miranda laughed, suddenly feeling relieved and a little foolish all at once. “Well then I guess I'm ready!” she stated. “Just let me go get them.” She turned to give her husband a peck on the cheek. “Behave yourself Hannibal.”  
   
“Of course,” he assured her innocently, then brought her into a hug and gave her a full kiss that caused Melissa to giggle with delight. “You have a good day.”  
   
Miranda smiled at her husband and then dutifully followed the woman out of the room.  
   
“Harold!” Silky's stringent voice cut through the morning air. “More coffee in here!”  
   
“Yessir, Mr. O'Sullivan,” came the answer from somewhere down the hall.  
   
Heyes took a deep breath and sat back down in the comfortable armchair to await the fresh coffee. Silky settled into the chair opposite him and then Harold was there with the fine china coffee pot and busied himself pouring coffee. He added cream according to each person's taste, then leaving the tray he discreetly made his departure.

Heyes sat quietly, wondering what antagonisms he was going to have to endure this time around.  
   
“That sure is a fine young woman ya' got there Heyes,” Silky stated out of the blue. “You treat her right, ya' hear?”  
   
Heyes smiled. “Yeah, I know Silky,” he acknowledged. “And we treat each other right.  
   
“Good! Glad ta' hear it.”  
   
Silence settled over the room again. Silky seemed like he wanted to say more but was unsure of how to start.  
   
“I didn't really mean it when I threatened ta' turn you and the Kid in,” the old man finally commented.  
   
“Yeah, I know Silky,” Heyes assured him though hearing it made him feel more at ease.  
   
“I was just so dang blasted mad at ya'!” he continued to explain. “I ain't never even come close to bein' arrested a'fore, and then there I was over some silly cockamamie scam of yours!”   
   
Heyes smiled just enough for his left dimple to make an appearance. “Yeah, it worked though didn't it?”  
   
“It did not!” Silky snapped. “Weren't nothin' about that plan that worked! You was just lucky that's all! Dagnabbit! You was always lucky, until....well, until ya' weren't.”  
   
Heyes made no comment. Was he about to get another chewing out?   
   
“We all know prison was hard on ya',” Silky continued. “and well, we all know what ya' done too. I mean, ya' stayed true Heyes. You didn't betray your friends and well, I just want ta' let ya' know that we all know it and we won't forget neither.”  
   
Heyes sat silently. This was not what he had expected.  
   
“And dag blast that Chuck!” Silky continued with some heat. “I think Soapy must be goin' soft in the head, keepin' that little weasel in the family. He was set ta' give every one 'a us away just ta' save his own miserable hide! I never did trust him. He was a weasel when we brung 'em in and he ain't changed.”  
   
“Why did you bring him in?” Heyes asked quietly.  
   
“Well,” Silky's tone softened. “he didn't have much goin' fer 'em neither Heyes, just like you and the Kid. So we brung 'em in ta give him a chance. Ya' never know, ya' see? That's just it. Ya' never know who's gonna be yer next ringer. Now Chuck, he could'a bin good. He was smooth Heyes, just as smooth as you. But he weren't as steady. I never did trust him and what he done at yer trial sure proved me right. Yessir.”  
   
“Then why did you keep him on?” Heyes asked, feeling slightly frustrated. “He betrayed all of us Silky and now Soapy still has him on the payroll? He's part of the reason I got hit with that sentence. I'm likely to wring his neck myself if I ever see him again.”  
   
“I know Heyes,” Silky commiserated. “but even without his testimony, you was goin' down. You had yourself backed into a corner that you just weren't gonna get out of. It's what he was willin' to do to the rest of us that has me riled.”  
   
“Oh, I see,” Heyes commented. “Knifing me in the back was okay but going after you and Soapy and Diamond Jim, that was....”  
   
“Get off that pedestal you keep puttin' yerself on!” Silky snarked. “That ain't what I'm sayin' at all and you know it! That judge didn't need his testimony with all that other stuff they had ta' throw at ya'. That's the only reason the law didn't come after us; 'cause they didn't need us. They had you and that's all they wanted. No, I'm mad at Chuck fer what he was willin' to do just to save his own neck. Willin' ta' turn on those who took him in, taught 'im a trade, gave 'im a livin'. And he did save his own neck too, he didn't get no time at all, while you, well they throwed the book at you.”  
   
“Yeah, they sure did,” Heyes agreed as he poured more coffee for both of them. “but that's all past now. Things are going good.”  
   
“Good.” Silky smiled. “I'm proud of ya' Heyes. You and Kid both. We all are.”  
   
“Oh.” Again, this was not what Heyes had expected. “You sure had a funny way of showing it last night.”  
   
“Hee, hee, hee,” Silky cackled. “I sure had you goin'! Hee, hee. Yer gonna havta' get yurself a thicker skin if yer gonna get into the detective business. You always was easy to rile.”  
   
Heyes felt an irritation start to grate but then he relaxed and chuckled instead.  
   
“Yeah, alright. Point taken.”  
   
“Good! Now, knowin' the lady folk as well as I do, I'd say we have most of the day ta' ourselves,” Silky surmised. “How about we adjourn to the study and pass the time with some card playin'?”  
   
Heyes grinned. “Okay.”  
   
“You can show me some of yer high falootin' parlor tricks.”  
   
“They're not parlor tricks,” Heyes insisted as they left the morning room. “they are an impressive display of my natural dexterity and showmanship of..”   
   
“Yeah!” Silky insisted. “Parlor tricks!”  
   
xxx  
   
Miranda had a very interesting day out on the town with Melissa. Eli had the coach ready and waiting for them and the half hour trip into downtown was filled with enough interesting sights and sounds to keep the ladies occupied. Randa was at first uncomfortable with the older woman, not sure how to respond to her but by the time they had stopped the coach and were entering the dress shop, the ice had been broken and they chatted and laughed together like a pair of life long friends.  
   
The matron of the shop spied Miranda running her hand down one of the dresses and approached the stranger with a raised eye brow and a snooty air. That is until she spied Melissa coming in as escort. Suddenly a smile lit up the layered on face powder and the woman's haughty demeanor was replaced with high end servitude.

“Good morning ladies,” the laced up prune greeted her visitors. “May I be of service to you?”  
   
“Well I hope so,” Randa smiled sweetly. “I appear to be in the market for a new dress. I was given a lovely emeralds to wear at the theatre tonight, and I'm in need of the appropriate apparel to set them off.”  
   
Mrs. Holstein's eyes glistened. “Might I assume that this purchase will be going onto Mr. O'Sullivan's tab?”  
   
“Yeas, you might,” Melissa responded. “so nothin' but the best fer the lady.”  
   
Mrs. Holstein's smile expanded until the face powder cracked.  
   
“Of course,” she cooed. “Right this way.”  
   
Turning her back on Melissa, the matron tucked Randa's arm under hers and led her past the racks of perfectly lovely dresses and into the back room where the more exquisite designs were on display for the upper, upper crust of patrons. Each dress was a work of art and of course, each one had a fine array of shoes, hats and small beaded purses available to mix and match along with a lovely collection of fine jewelry and even suggested eye and lip colorings to help a young woman complete her attire.  
   
Shopping in the ritzy district of downtown San Francisco is not for the weak of heart, or the currency starved pocket book. Miranda was accustomed to this life style so was at her ease in the fine boutique but again she felt unsure of accepting this gift. She knew that Silky had the money and obviously, the owner of the shop knew it also, but that was not her main concern. After the talk she'd had with Hannibal the night before, she did not want to tread too harshly on his financial toes. The man had his pride and if she showed up with something too exquisite, he might take exception to it and be back into his foul mood once again.  
   
She tried on many of the dresses and took note that as is often the case in the more established shops, none of the wares displayed a price. Again, this caused her some concern, not wanting to assume that there was no limit to what she should spend. But when she asked about this obvious omission, Mrs. Holstein simply laughed and waved the inquiry away as being unimportant. Even Melissa assured her not to worry herself over that minor detail so Miranda smiled and accepted the inevitable.  
   
She found that Melissa's advice to bring the necklace with her had been well founded. She tried on a number of dresses without presenting the jewels, choosing to keep them safe within her handbag. But trying to remember the exact color and essence of the stones was proving to be impossible. And there were so many different choices of colors and patterns of the dresses, that choosing the right one needed to have some point of reference.  
   
The totally inappropriate styles were quickly set to the side until five possibles were all that remained and they were down to decision time. With a deep breath, Randa pulled her necklace out of safe keeping and with Melissa's help, clasped the emerald string around her throat.   
   
Mrs. Holstein gasped in admiration and her eyes lit up with a greedy spark.  
   
“My what lovely jewels,” she exclaimed. “No doubt a gift from Mr. O'Sullivan.”  
   
“Yes,” Randa answered, feeling both flattered and insulted. Was this woman insinuating that Randa was from a disadvantaged station and that her own husband could not have afforded such a gift? She let the irritation of this assumption slip away, but she did not forget it.  
   
“I have the most exquisite earrings that were simply made for that necklace,” Mrs. Holstein moved in for the kill. She hurried over to her glass cabinet and unlocking the door, she slid it open and pulled out a pair of green emerald earrings which would indeed set the necklace off nicely. “Here, my dear. Put these on and once we find the right dress, we can focus on the perfect shoes and of course a new purse!”  
   
Two hours later, both ladies exited the shop loaded down with boxes of various sizes and colors. Miranda had been of a mind to leave and go shop elsewhere due to Mrs. Holstein's condescending yet persistent sales pitch but Melissa had insisted that this was the best shop in town. Not only were the dresses of the best quality and latest design but it was the only shop in town where one could purchase all the accessories needed to go with such a lovely dress. And be able to walk out with the whole outfit that same day. Even a hat had been added to the list, since as Mrs. Holstein pointed out; a fine lady can not go to the dinner theatre without a fine hat!  
   
Eli stepped down from the driver's seat and assisted with storing the numerous boxes in the backward facing seat of the open carriage. It wasn't until the ladies were settled into their seats and the carriage was on its way to a highly recommended cafe that they allowed their expressions to relax and they burst out laughing.  
   
“Oh my goodness!” Miranda exclaimed once she got her breath back. “I've been to high class shops before, but this was ridiculous.”  
   
“Mrs. Holstein is certainly in a class by herself,” Melissa agreed. “but it's still the best shop in town.”  
   
“Yes,” Randa took a deep breath. “she does have an exquisite inventory, but what an attitude! She must have put in years of practice to get just the right mix of snooty arrogance and feigned unctuous subservience. I'm amazed she has people coming back to her.”  
   
Melissa shrugged. “Mrs. Holstein is the best in town,” she reiterated. “an' she knows it.”

xxx

 

The ladies settled in at the open air cafe and prepared to enjoy a light lunch before heading back to the O'Sullivan mansion. Miranda smiled at the thought of her husband and his mentor spending the day together and hoped that it wouldn't come to fisticuffs. They were two birds of a feather when it came to their pride with neither one willing to back down. Hopefully the mansion would still be intact when the ladies arrived home.

The young waitress came up to their table and greeted Miranda with a friendly smile.  
   
“Good afternoon ma'am. What can I get for you?”  
   
“Oh,” Miranda picked up the menu and tentatively opened it. “Oh dear, we haven't really looked at it yet, let me see. Well a nice pot of tea of course, Orange Pekoe if you have it.”  
   
“Yes ma'am.”  
   
“And for lunch, well...” she glanced at her companion. “you've been here before Melissa, what do you recommend?”  
   
Melissa smiled. “The mixed seafood salad is very nice.”   
   
“Sounds perfect.” Miranda closed the menu and smiled up at the waitress. “Seafood salad it is.”  
   
“Of course ma'am. A pot of Orange Pekoe tea and one seafood salad.”  
   
“No,” Randa corrected her. “Two seafood salads.”  
   
The waitress sent a quick sidelong glance to the lady's companion and with a slight tightening of the lips, changed the order to two salads.  
   
“Yes ma'am. Two seafood salads.”  
   
“And make sure you bring two services for the tea,” Randa added as the waitress turned to leave.  
   
The young woman gave a brief nod and without a second glance to Melissa, went off to tend to the order.  
   
Miranda scowled and looked to her companion.  
   
“How rude,” she commented. “Does she not know you?”  
   
“Oh yes ma'am,” Melissa assured her. “but I'm used ta' that attitude in this part 'a town. I wouldn't even be permitted ta' ask fer a glass 'a water here if I didn't work fer Mr. O'Sullivan. Mrs. Holstein ain't the only one with a snooty attitude.”  
   
“Oh dear, I feel so guilty now.”  
   
“Why? Ain't nothin' you done”  
   
“Well,” Miranda did look uncomfortable. “I grew up in a well to do family. My first husband was quite wealthy. Up until he passed, all I knew was this side of life; the parties, the shops, the lovely cafes. I must admit I never gave any thought to the servants. I'm ashamed to admit now but I may not have been any different from our young waitress there.”  
   
“Aw no,” Melissa waved Randa's concerns away. “you ain't nothin' like these hoity-toities. I could tell right off that yur a real lady. You have class. Not like these uppity young things. They think they's got class, but it takes more'n just bein' born to it ta' make ya' a real lady. Believe me, I've seen all sorts come by Mr. O'Sullivan's place. I been there a lot a' years, and I've seen my share a' upper crust wannabes. It gets so's you can tell the difference real quick.”

Conversation paused as the waitress returned with the tray laden with the tea pot and two services. The dishes were set upon the table and the waitress poured Miranda's cup for her. She was just about to set the pot down when a quick look from Miranda stopped her, and the waitress turned to pour tea for her other guest as well.  
   
“Milk or lemon, ma'am?”  
   
“Milk please, just a little.” Miranda told her.  
   
The waitress added the milk, then with demonstrative reluctance offered the same choice to Melissa.  
   
Melissa smiled at the 'child's' discomfort. “I'll have milk too.”  
   
The waitress poured the milk and quickly departed.  
   
“Oh dear,” Randa chuckled. “she is having a hard time with this.”  
   
“I sure ain't.”  
   
They laughed and tapped their tea cups before taking appreciative sips.  
   
“How long have you been working for Mr. O'Sullivan?” Miranda asked.  
   
“Oh, I been with him fer years ma'am,” Melissa informed her. “My husband drove cab ya' see. We was doin' alright but it's a hard life and he got hisself sick with pneumonia and up an' died on me.”  
   
“I'm sorry,” Randa commiserated. “I know how hard that is.”  
   
“Yes ma'am,” Melissa shrugged it off. “It were years ago now and I can't say there were any love loss between us. He was fine when sober, but lots 'a our money went to the booze and he'd beat me somethin' awful when he got drunk. Which was often. It was almost a relief when he passed, God forgive me, but it was. My real concern was how I was gonna get by. I had no family as such and no ways ta' make a livin'. I was still young and kinda' pretty back then, believe it or not so I found that I could make some money bein' nice to the boys, if'n you get my meanin'.” Randa nodded silently. “Yeah, I was headin' down the wrong path fer sure. But then one a' them boys who got took in by Mr. O'Sullivan, why he told that kindly gentleman of my predicament and the next thing I knows I'm wisked off ta' his mansion and livin' the good life!  
“I got myself my own room, clean clothes and good food. And he even pays me, twice a month, on time ev’ry time. An' I even get four days off ev'ry month! It was a godsend, yes ma'am. I never had it so good. Mr. O'Sullivan is the finest gentleman I ever known, and I've known quite a few, I can assure you. I got no intentions of goin' nowhere's!”  
   
Again the conversation paused when their salads arrived and the two ladies settled in to lunch.  
   
“You never thought to re-marry?” Randa inquired. “I'm sure Mr. O'Sullivan could have set you up...”  
   
Melissa chuckled. “Oh no ma'am. No decent gentleman would a' wanted me in that way. Not after how I'd had ta' make my livin' afore comin' to that fine house. A'sides, what would I want with another fool husband? I only married in the first place 'cause I had nothin' else and I already told ya' how that worked out. Nope. I'm quite happy with the way my life is goin'. Don't fix it if it ain't broke.”  
   
Randa laughed. “Yes. You're quite right. I must remind myself at times to realize how fortunate I have been. Not only with my own family and circumstances, but also with both of my husbands. I never thought I could love again after William died, and then Hannibal showed up.” She smiled lovingly. “He's a good man, but he started out on the streets as well. Goodness knows what would have become of him and his cousin if not for Mr. Saunders and Mr. O'Sullivan. Those gentlemen seem to make a habit of saving souls—well, so to speak. I doubt Hannibal and Jed would have survived at all if not for them.”  
   
Melissa nodded. “Yes ma'am. You do have yourself a fine husband. Now if that one had come a callin' I might'a been tempted ta' try fer wedded bliss again.” she laughed. “So probably best that he didn't! I'm happy.”  
   
“Good,” Miranda said, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. “and to celebrate our wise choices, we'll be naughty and order dessert!”  
   
“Oh yes!”   
   
xxx  
   
The ladies arrived back at the mansion just in time for Randa to get cleaned up and prepared for their evening out. Heyes was in the study reading one of Silky's books when he heard the front door open and the happy laughter of two females in full flight told him his wife was home. He stood up and came to the front hall just as Eli was depositing the last of numerous boxes inside the alcove.  
   
“Oh my goodness,” Hannibal looked amazed. “Did you buy the whole store?”  
   
Randa laughed and rolled her eyes. “We would have if Mrs. Holstein had had her way! As it is, I think I bought more than I should have.”  
   
“No such thing!” came the cackled response from down the hallway and Silky put in an appearance. “My, I've known ladies ta' come back from a shoppin' spree with four times as many boxes! What's the matter Melissa? Didn't ya' tell her ta' git whatever she liked?”  
   
“Of course, Mr. O'Sullivan,” Melissa insisted. “but the lady was very particular.”  
   
“You mustn't blame her,” Miranda came to her new friend's defense. “I would have bought far less if not for her insistence.”  
   
“Okay, if that's what ya' wanted,” Silky agreed. “Well go on! What's ya' standin' around here fer? I wanna see what my money bought! Git on up there! Eli, help the ladies!”  
   
“No, that's alright Eli,” Heyes broke in through his chuckle. “I'll help the lady with her boxes.”  
   
Eli hesitated, not quite sure which order to follow.  
   
“Well go on then!” Silky let him know. “Get them horses back to the stable. And get that team of blacks ready for the evenin' outin'!”  
   
“Yessir,” Eli nodded and made a hasty retreat.  
   
Heyes grinned over at his mentor. “Why must you always be a tyrant? It makes your employees afraid of you.”  
   
“Ahh, a little fear is good fer 'em,” Silky retorted. “Keeps 'em on their toes. Ain't that right Melissa?”  
   
Melissa giggled like a young girl as she picked up a couple of boxes to take upstairs.  
   
“Yessir Mr. O'Sullivan.” she agreed playfully as the two ladies trotted up the stairs to attend to their toilette.  
   
“See?” Silky persisted. “Keep 'em shakin' in their boots so's they know their place.”  
   
“Uh huh,” Heyes agreed as he picked up the remaining boxes. “Works like a charm, every time.”  
   
“Well yeah! A' course it does.”  
   
Heyes carried on upstairs and gave a discreet knock on the door of their suite. He smiled again as he heard shuffling and laughter coming from inside and was amazed at how quickly his wife made friends. It generally took him at least six months to even consider someone a friend. Oh he was a charmer alright and could easily fit in with any situation. But he was a cautious con man too and more often than not his easy banter with new people was cover for his own suspicious nature.  
   
The door opened and Melissa popped her head out.   
   
“Yes?”  
   
“The rest of the boxes, ma'am,” Heyes handed them over and gave the lady a gentlemanly bow.  
   
She accepted the boxes and shut the door in his face. Excited laughter picked up again on the other side of the barrier as Heyes turned and with a smile on his face, headed back downstairs to await his date for the evening. He returned to the study to find Silky already there and pouring out two glasses of sherry. Silky smiled over at his protege and set a glass on the side table beside the book Heyes had been reading.  
   
“May as well get settled in again,” Silky advised him. “I've known the ladies to take all afternoon ta' get ready just fer a jaunt inta' town.”  
   
“Hmm,” Heyes nodded as he sat. “Hopefully she won't take that long. I still have to get ready and my suit is up in our suite.”  
   
“Hee hee hee. Ya' might just end up goin' in yer workin' duds.”  
   
Heyes let loose a resignated sigh and took a sip from his sherry.  
   
Two hours later Melissa put in an appearance at the door to the study. Heyes looked up from his book and blinked a couple to times to clear his focus.  
   
Melissa gave a slight courtesy, being the best her knees could handle.  
   
“Your lady awaits you sir,” she announced with pleasure.  
   
“Ahh, thank you.” Heyes put his book down and pushed himself out of the armchair.  
   
Silky glanced up from his newspaper and chuckled.  
   
“Don't be too long Heyes,” he told the departing back. “I want a look see too afore ya' make a dash out the door!”  
   
Heyes sent him back a quick wave as he headed for the stairs.  
   
   
Another discreet knock on the door to their suite was followed by a quiet beckoning. Heyes turned the knob and walked in and was stopped in his tracks as the breath was knocked out of him. She was so beautiful and once again he couldn't believe how lucky he was.  
   
Miranda stood in front of the vanity and her eyes smiled playfully at him from behind a delicate peach and emerald fan that effectively hid her features from interested eyes. She gave the fan a couple of seductive flutters before slowly lowering it to show off her fine nose and then sensuous lips. Melissa had done a wonderful job of setting Randa's rich, dark brown hair up in a coiffure which allowed an uninhibited view of her long, graceful neck and sloping shoulders. The emerald teardrop earrings draped elegantly down in front of wisps of dark hair as they glittered and danced with every move she made.

The dress was perfect. A dark, dusty peach silk made up the sleek design which was then covered with a dark emerald green lace of intricate pattern which fell all the way to the floor and added just enough dark to the peach to make it a perfect evening gown. The wide V-shaped neckline made the dress almost come off the shoulders and the material fitted her form so perfectly that Heyes could not help but notice her bosom being seductively enhanced by the material.   
   
She smiled at him shyly, hoping she was pleasing him. She looked at her image in the mirror and ran her hand down the slope of her waist and hips and admired what she saw.  
   
“Do you like it?” she asked him.  
   
He grinned like a schoolboy. Coming over to her he turned her so she could see herself fully in the mirror and snuggling in behind, he laced his fingers around in front.  
   
“You're as beautiful as you were on our wedding day,” he whispered in her ear.  
   
Her hands came in to cover his where they set on her belly.  
   
“It's so form fitting,” she stated needlessly. “I was afraid it would show. It does show, doesn't it?”  
   
“A little bit,” Hannibal agreed. “but not so much that anyone other than us would notice. You look lovely. But where is the necklace? Don't tell me that after all this you're not going to wear it!”  
   
“Of course I'm going to wear it,” Miranda laughed. She picked the necklace up from the vanity, and turning in her husband's arms, she presented the jewels to him. “but I wanted you to add the finishing touch.”  
   
Heyes smiled and took the necklace from her. He didn't know why, but it made him feel special that she would save this for him to do. She turned away from him again and he draped the necklace around her throat and clasped it securely. He ran his hands gently down the slope of her shoulders and leaned in to give her a kiss on the back of the neck. She cringed, but giggled with delight.  
   
“Let me look at you,” he said, and turned her to face him again. His appreciation started with her sparkling dark eyes, travelling down her form from there taking in her elegant neck and gracefully sloping shoulders. His smile widened and his eyes lingered a moment as he appreciated her full round bosom. He moved on into the natural curve of her waist line and hips and felt a surge of excited emotion with the slight bulging of her small tummy. His eyes travelled downwards, noting how the silky material fell gracefully off her hips and floated down her long legs which he already knew were very shapely. The hem of the dress just missed kissing the floor and the toe of one delicately booted foot peeked out from under. With a sigh of appreciation he allowed his eyes to roam upward again until he reconnected with his wife's laughing eyes and his cheeky grin deepened the dimples.

“Perfection.”

Half an hour later Miranda was helping her husband finish up the last touches of his finery before they went downstairs for final inspection. She was buttoning up his white collar as Hannibal draped the tie around his neck and prepared to knot it. Miranda practically gasped and the creased her brow in concern.

“What's wrong?” her husband asked and he looked down at the material now feeling his own level of anxiety. “Is there a stain on it?”

“No no,” Miranda assured him. “but it's the same tie you wore at Jed's wedding.”

“Yes. What's wrong with that?”

Miranda sighed. “When I packed it for you, I thought I was going to be wearing the blue satin dress. This tie would have complimented it very nicely,” she explained. “But it doesn't go at all with the green I'm now wearing.”

“I'm sure no one will notice,” Hannibal countered. “Is it really that important?”

Randa's brows went up. “Yes! Just wait a moment. Don't move, I'll be right back.”

“Oh Miranda, I'm sure it's not that....”

But his wife had quickly exited the suite. She went to the landing at the top of the staircase and quickly rang the bell to call a servant. Within seconds Melissa's head popped around the banister down on the main floor.

“Yes ma'am?” she asked helpfully.

“Melissa!” Randa smiled. “thank goodness it's you. Will you ask Mr. O'Sullivan if he has a dark green tie that my husband can borrow for tonight? The one we packed simply will not do with this dress.”

Melissa's eyes widen in apprehension.

“Oh ma'am, I apologize!” she declared. “This is all my fault. I shoulda' thought ta' buy a new tie for the dress. Yes yes, just one moment. I will go ask.” the servant disappeared but her voice could be heard fading into the bowls of the house. “Oh dear, this is dreadful....we should'a thought. Ole' Mrs. Holstein really dropped the biscuit this time.....” 

Miranda waited patiently at the top of the stairs for what seemed an eternity. She could hear Silky's pitched tones coming from the study but could not make out what he was saying. She hoped that dear Melissa was not getting a chewing out for this happenstance. It was certainly not her fault. Randa should have thought of it herself. Oh, she was so out of practice at all this. 

Finally Melissa came around the bannister again and trotted up the stairs She wore a triumphant smile on her round wrinkled face and in her hand, held high above her head was a green tie that would do perfectly.

“Here you are ma'am!” Melissa was breathless by the time she reached the second landing, but her smile grew with delight as she handed the strip of material over. “Look it that,” she exclaimed as the tie brushed against Randa's dress. “they match perfectly. We could not 'a done better if'n we'd tried.”

“Thank you Melissa, you have saved the day!”

Melissa grinned even more.

“Tell Mr. O'Sullivan that we will be down presently,” Miranda told her. “Perhaps if he could summon the coach?”

“Of course ma'am,” Melissa accepted her new assignment. “I'll tell 'im right away.”

The two ladies parted company. Miranda returned to the suite with tie in hand and a sparkle in her eye.

“Here we are!” she announced with pleasure. “This will be so much better. Come on, stand up. Let me put it on you.”

Hannibal sighed in resignation but smiled as he stood for his wife. He could see how excited she was to be getting dressed up and going out on the town once again. Her joy and energy were contagious and Hannibal was feeling the excitement of the evening, as well as enjoying the vision of his wife skipping about like a child on Christmas morning.

Randa positioned the tie around her husband's collar and carefully knotted it. She gave it a couple of gentle tugs and stood back to admire her work. She looked up and didn't mind at all that her husband's eyes were laughing at her.

“Okay, where is your waist coat and jacket?” she asked as she looked around at all possible locations. “Oh there they are. Here, put them on.”

Hannibal complied and had to admit himself that it felt good and even a bit thrilling to be donning this fine suit again. It always seemed to precede a happy occasion. He finished up with the buttons, gave the jacket a quick tug and turned to his wife for inspection.

Miranda stood back from him. A soft smile played about her lips as her eyes took in his dark, slicked back hair looking dapper and tidy. She sank into those eyes of molten chocolate and remembered back to their first meeting and how it was those very same eyes that had entrapped her and pulled her in to his soul where she remained sweetly lost forever. His perky nose caused her to chuckled silently and his left dimple betrayed a bemused smile knowing what it was that had caught his wife's fancy. 

She travelled on, appreciating his broad shoulders and his straight posture. The dark green of the tie that so nicely completed the picture caught her eye and pulled her gaze down to note how naturally the suit jacket enhanced his slim waist and narrow hips. She loved his hands; strong and trustworthy combined with the long, slender artistic fingers where the wedding band sat, looking very comfortable in its proper place. Her glance shifted then to his long legs and carried all the way down his slender form to rest upon the polished black shoes that peeked out from under the dark coal material of the pant leg. 

She then allowed her eyes to take their time making the trip back up until once again their gazes met and locked. 

Her smile of appreciation broadened and she nodded. “Perfection.”

 

xxx

The couple made their way downstairs to find Silky and Melissa already in the front hall awaiting their arrival.  
   
Silky's eyes lit up as soon as he saw the lady of honorur.  
   
“My my my!” he cackled. “And they say money can't buy happiness, hee hee hee. You look lovely my dear.” And he took Miranda's hand and gave it a gentlemanly kiss.  
   
Miranda blushed a soft pink.

“Thank you so much for these wonderful gifts,” she told him. “I just know we're going to have an amazing evening.”  
   
“Yeah well a lady needs to be treated special sometimes,” Silky responded. “and yer lookin' good there too Heyes. Dag blast it, I don't know how ya' do it! Clean ya' up some and put ya' in a decent suit and you look like you was born to the upper crust. Yessiree, that's what made ya' such a good con man; you always looked the part, like you was born to it.”  
   
“Well, we're doing it for real tonight Silky, thanks to you,” Heyes told him. “And speaking of which, I suppose it's time we got going.”  
   
“Yeah yeah,” Silky assured him. “Eli's bringin' the clarence around. If yer goin' as my guests I insists ya' go in style. Oughta be here any minute.”  
   
Miranda allowed Melissa to assist with getting the matching hat settled on Randa's coiffure while Randa herself slipped on the long elegant gloves that all high society ladies were expected to wear to the theatre. Hannibal took the shawl from Melissa's arm and gently draped it over his wife's exposed shoulders to keep them protected from the evening chill. And from the goggling eyes of passers-by until they arrived at the theatre and seated at their table for dinner. At which point, it would suddenly become not only accepted, but expected for the ladies to openly display a shapely neckline, bared shoulders and an ample bosom for all to see.  
   
“Well it's about time!” Silky suddenly cut in on Heyes' musings. “Here's the clarence. Now be off with ya' and leave an old man in peace!”  
   
xxx  
   
Eli timed their arrival at the theatre perfectly. The high stepping team of black carriage horses would have made Kenny's father envious as they stopped perfectly on their mark in front of the entrance to the impressive Geary Street Theatre. One of the numerous doormen rushed forward to greet the couple as they disembarked the clarence and discreetly made sure their evening attire was appropriately presented.   
   
Heyes thanked the man and discreetly handed him a gratuity before turning to have a word with their driver.  
   
“Is there a place for you to wait, or will you be going back to the mansion for now?”  
   
“Oh no sir, I'll be waiting here,” Eli informed him. “Union Square offers a number of nice supper clubs for the coachmen and it'll give me a chance to meet up with some friends.”  
   
Heyes grinned. “Of course. Don't get too carried away.”  
   
“No sir!” Eli almost sounded insulted. “I'll be right back here with the coach when the show is over. No need to worry about that.”  
   
“Good. Have a pleasant evening.”   
   
“Thank you sir. To you and your missus as well.”  
   
Eli clucked to the team, and picking up their feathered feet, the impressive black horses collected themselves to show off to everyone how handsome they were and moved away to make room for the next coach.

Heyes turned to his wife and offered her his arm. She smiled and graciously accepted.  
   
“I do hope they don't make us wait too long for dinner,” she whispered as they started up the steps. “I'm starving!”  
   
Entering the lobby of the plush theatre, Heyes found himself excited about the upcoming entertainment but was no longer overly impressed with the elegance of this exquisite structure. It would seem that after staying at the Brown Palace in Denver, nothing short of Windsor Castle was going to leave much of an impression upon him now.

Still, the anticipatory atmosphere created by low murmuring conversation of so many well to do patrons, all dressed in their finery couldn't help but bring a sparkle to his eye and a smile to his face. Miranda, still on his arm was flush with excitement as though this were her first time at the theatre. But it had been such a long time and so much had happened since viewing her last performance that it was almost as though this were her first visit all over again. She had every intention of sitting back and enjoying 'The Barber From Seville” once she'd had a chance to quiet her gurgling stomach.  
   
Leaving her shawl and both their hats with the coat man, the pair made their way to the lobby of the restaurant and waited their turn for one of the hosts to accept their tickets and escort them to their table. Following the young man through the maze of occupied tables Heyes could not help but notice a number of male eyes sneaking a discreet glance at his wife. Part of him felt a slight twinge of jealousy, but pride was the stronger emotion and he smiled smugly as the host presented them with their places for the evening.  
   
Miranda allowed the host to pull out her chair so she could sit and get settled. While doing so she was able to look casually around her and couldn't help but notice a number of female eyes coyly looking over her husband. She smiled smugly and glanced over at her date to note that he was apparently oblivious to the feminine scrutiny being sent his way. Men could be so obtuse sometimes.

“On the menu tonight we are offering either a poached salmon steak with butter and sliced lemons and limes or a roast of lamb with mint and herbs. Both are served with our seasonal vegetables and a mixed rice pilaff,” the host informed them politely. “Here is our wine list for your convenience and your server, Carson will be with you shortly.”  
   
“Thank you,” Heyes responded and accepted the wine list then turned to his wife once their host had moved away. “Do you think you're up to wine tonight?”   
   
“For tonight, I'm going to take the chance,” Miranda stated. “The white wine last night didn't upset me at all so I think it'll be safe.”  
   
Heyes nodded and began his scrutiny of the list until a light touch from his wife brought his eyes up to hers again.  
   
“I'm just going to make a quick trip to the convenience,” she said quietly. “I won't be long.”  
   
“Oh. Would you like me to come with you?”  
   
“That's quite alright dear,” she assured him with a hint of a tease. “I don't think there's much chance of running into unsavory individuals in this lobby.”  
   
Heyes smiled. “Yes alright.”  
   
Finding himself alone at the table, Heyes picked up the menu to read the details of the offered fare just to give himself something to do until his wife returned.  
   
“Excuse me young man.” a woman's polite voice interrupted his reading.  
   
Heyes glanced over to the table next to them where an older couple was already indulging in the first glasses of wine for the evening.  
   
“Yes ma'am?” Heyes responded.  
   
“I couldn't help over hearing,” she commented and her husband let loose a mild snort. “Is you wife not well?”   
   
“Not well ma'am?”  
   
“You seemed concerned about her taking some wine....”  
   
“Mildred stop being such a snoop,” her husband scolded her. “You haven't even been introduced.”  
   
“Oh.”  
   
“No, that's quite alright,” Heyes assured them. “As my wife likes to say; If you want to know something the best thing to do is ask.”  
   
“Yes!” Mildred grabbed onto the handy excuse. “My feelings exactly.”  
   
“And in order to solve the other problem,” Heyes continued. “my name is Mr. Heyes.” 

“Heyes is it?” the rather large man humphed as both men rose to their feet and shook hands. “Interesting name. I'm Mr. Caldwell and my wife, Mildred.”  
   
“Ma'am.” Heyes gave her a polite nod and sat back down.  
   
“My husband and I come to the theatre quite regularly,” Mildred continued with the snooping. “but I don't recall seeing you and your wife here before.”  
   
“No ma'am,” Heyes agreed. “My wife and I are visiting here in San Francisco and the dinner theatre came highly recommended. We agreed that it would make for an interesting distraction for the evening.”

“Oh. So where are you and your wife from?” Mildred asked.  
   
“Denver.”  
   
“Oh,” Mildred practically recoiled from the 'foreigner'. “How quaint.”  
   
“What does a man of your obvious standing do for a living in Denver?” Caldwell asked in mild curiosity. “Or are you 'old money'?” At which point Mildred administered a slight kick under the table for his rudeness. Caldwell jumped and frowned at her.

“Oh good heavens no,” Heyes responded with a chuckle, choosing not to mention his wife's fortune at this time. “No, my partner and I run a detective agency, Mr. Caldwell.”  
   
Caldwell arched an eye brow. “Really? You're in law enforcement?”  
   
“Ah, not exactly,” Heyes explained. “More security and investigation. We try to leave the gun play and arresting to the actual lawmen.”  
   
Mildred's hand went to her bosom. “Oh dear. It still sounds awfully dangerous though. It must be very hard on your dear wife.”  
   
“She hasn't complained yet,” Heyes assured her.   
   
“Still,” Caldwell carried on with his original thought. “You work closely with law enforcement I take it?”  
   
“Oh well yes,” Heyes agreed, wondering where this was going.  
   
Suddenly Mr. Caldwell began to chuckle while Heyes and Mildred exchanged puzzled glances.  
   
“Herbert, what are you going on about?” Mildred finally asked him.  
   
“I can't help but think Mr. Heyes,” Caldwell explained through his chuckling. “that your unfortunate name must be no end of an embarrassment for you considering your particular line of work.”  
   
“An embarrassment?” Heyes' brows creased.  
   
“Yes!” Caldwell insisted. “There was that outlaw running rampant down in your neck of the woods for, I don't know how long! Years it was before the law finally caught him! Must have made life miserable for honest folks trying to make a living. Surely you've heard of him Mr. Heyes, considering he had the same name as you. Can't remember the scoundrel's fist name though—something totally outlandish....”  
   
“Hannibal, dear.”  
   
“Hmm, what?”  
   
“His first name was Hannibal,” Mildred informed him. “I remember hearing about him from all the young ladies where I shop.”  
   
“Oh yes! You're quite right my dear. Hannibal it was. What in the world were that rogue's parents thinking, sticking the lad with a name like that? No wonder he grew up so mean, eh? Ha ha ha!” At which point he actually reached over and gave Heyes a slap on the shoulder. “When you first told me your name I thought that perhaps you were related to that low class bank robber, but considering your line of work and the fact that you're obviously a gentleman, it's hardly likely now is it? Still, like I said it must cause you no end of embarrassment, eh?”  
   
Heyes was still working on a response to these comments when Miranda saved him by returning to the table.

“That's better,” she stated with a contented sigh. “Have you had the chance to order wine yet?”  
   
“No,” Heyes told her. “Our server hasn't been by. I thought I might order the salmon so with that, and your situation being what it is, we'll ask Carson to recommend a nice white.”  
   
“Well that's fine for me,” Miranda stated. “but Hannibal, I know you enjoy a nice oaky red when you get....”  
   
Her comment was interrupted by the woman sitting at the next table suddenly letting out a loud, high pitched squeak. Miranda's brow went up in consternation as the woman's gentleman companion sputtered and choked on his wine. Miranda sent a quizzical look to her husband. Heyes couldn't help it and broke out laughing.  
   
After the initial awkwardness over the re-introduction, the two couples ended up getting along famously. A carafe of white arrived at the table for Miranda along with a carafe of red for her husband and before their meals of poached salmon put in an appearance, Mildred and Miranda were already chatting without restraint. It wasn't long before the Caldwells knew all about Miranda's past history, and the fact that she and her new husband were on their belated honeymoon. Miranda made no mention of her family way but Mildred was no slump in that department and smiled knowingly when Miranda only made reference to their adorable adopted daughter awaiting them at home.  
   
Herbert and Hannibal sat back sipping their wine and letting their wives prattle on. That is until the meals arrived. Silence prevailed as diners throughout the room focused on their choices and only soft murmurings and the clinking of dishes could be heard. 

The two couples tended to their own affairs during the meal, but as Mildred satisfied her appetite and again became interested in the activities of others she allowed a glance to land on Heyes' plate and she arched brow in his direction.

“You're having red wine with poached salmon?” she queried incredulously.  
   
Heyes flashed a charming dimple. “Yes ma'am,” he admitted. “I suppose I never was one to stand on convention.”  
   
The dimple grew into a full smile as Mildred tee heed into her lace handkerchief.   
   
The rest of the evening only got better. Desserts along with coffee or brandy were distributed amongst the guests just in time for the play to begin. Sounds of chairs thumping against plushly carpeted floors took over as people re-arranged their seating to be able to comfortably view the stage. The lights dimmed and an anticipatory hush fell over the audience as the curtain lifted and the players made their entrance.  
   
Xxx  
   
“Did you have a pleasant evening?” Hannibal asked his wife as they sat comfortably in the clarence on their way back to Silky's mansion.  
   
The lamp inside the coach was lit to chase away the darkness of the late evening and Heyes couldn't help but admire the way the shadows danced across his wife's lovely face. Her eyes were tired but happy and the flickering light from the lamp sparkled playfully upon the emeralds that adorned her throat and hung from her ears. He sighed in contentment.  
   
“Yes,” she told him. “It will be up there as one of the best evenings of my life. I might wish it could go on forever if I weren't so tired.”  
   
Heyes tried to stifle a yawn.  
   
“I'm unexpectedly tired as well,” he admitted. “Although I suspect the red wine and brandy have something to do with that.”  
   
“Did you enjoy the play?”

Heyes chuckled and a hand came up to rub his throat.  
   
“Yes!” he told her. “So much so, I think my throat is going to be sore for a week, I laughed so hard. You didn't tell me it was a comedy.”  
   
“Some things are best left to be enjoyed as they're presented.”  
   
Heyes nodded and a comfortable silence settled in for a few moments.  
   
“It seems we made some new friends,” Miranda commented, breaking the silence. “They appeared quite amiable to keeping in touch.”  
   
“Amiable?” Heyes snorted. “Down right pushy is more like it.”  
   
“Ah yes, the life of being famous.” Heyes rolled his eyes and Miranda snickered. “Well, at least it's someone else we can now visit when we return to San Francisco. Everyone seems to want to meet the children. Even the ones who aren't born yet!”  
   
“It would make things a lot easier if they would all just come over to Colorado.”  
   
“I can't see Silky doing that,” Miranda mused. “A bit of a distance for him now, I expect.”  
   
“I suppose. I'm sure we'll be back.” Heyes mused. “Perhaps with Jed and Beth and however many children we all might have by then. Silky would love that.”

Miranda snickered quietly then sighed with contentment.  
   
“I've had such a nice time here I almost don't want to leave,” she admitted. “Except that I am so looking forward to seeing Santa Marta! At least we don't have to get up early for the train in the morning. I could really do with a lay in.”  
   
“Again?” Heyes teased. “We had a lay in this morning. You're starting to get lazy.”

“I'm on vacation!” Randa pointed out, but then her expression softened and a hint of worry passed through her eyes. “I wonder though, if we should get in touch with home before we head south. I must admit to behaving like a mother hen and feeling some concern for Sally. She can feel quite insecure sometimes and this is the first time we have both been away from her.”  
   
“I wouldn't worry about it,” Heyes assured her. “She loves being out with her grandparents, you know that. And she has Fanny and J.J. to keep her busy. She's probably having the time of her life.”  
   
“Yes, I know. It's just....”  
   
“Besides, Jed knows our route and so does Sheriff Jacobs,” Heyes continued, easing his wife's fears. “I'm sure if anything serious were to come up, they would get in touch. Just relax and enjoy our honeymoon.”  
   
Miranda smiled and then did relax.   
   
“Of course, you're right,” she agreed. “I'm just acting like an old mother hen. No more of that. I'm sure everything is just fine at home.”  
 


	4. Firestorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jed and Beth return to their home with the new baby.  
> An old acquaintance of Heyes' comes to town--and no, it's not another girlfriend.  
> Harry's bachelor party is a big hit.  
> An unexpected threat comes to Brookswood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some nudity

Most of the town's folk were crammed into the schoolhouse while others lined up along the porch around the doorway, or gathered in groups around each of the windows. The mayor and Carl Jacobs were standing over by the teacher's desk and giving out information.  
   
“From what I understand there is no immediate danger to the town,” Mayor Kincade was saying. “but left unchecked it’s going to eat up a lot of our timber and grazing lands. We must protect the town at all costs so our first line of defense will need to be out on the range. Hopefully we can save the ranches and farms as well.”  
   
There were a few grumbles from people who lived out on those ranches. The cattle and lumber industries were what made this town possible and the mayor's words made them feel that yet again, the business and financial needs of those living in town were being given priority.  
   
“Eric,” Sheriff Jacobs quickly took over the floor to avert an uprising. “We're going to need all your horses and whatever work wagons and carriages you have.”  
   
“I knew it!” Eric complained from the back of the room. “Everyone always seems ta' think that my horses can be used and abused whenever needs be! I don't want none a' my horse gettin' burned ta' death!”  
   
“I don't want anyone gettin' burned to death!” Jacobs snapped back, not being in the mood on this morning to put up with the liveryman's protectiveness. “We need as many horses and working wagons as we can get! Every able bodied fella will get hold of as many axes, saws, picks and shovels as you can find and meet back here in half an hour. Now you folks who are visitin' our town, well you're not obligated to help out here but we sure could use you. You want to be part of the work crews then just be here in half an hour and we'll make sure you get outfitted.  
“Doc, I'm thinking you should just stay in town. Anybody gets injured out there, we'll get them transported to you. Speakin' a' which, is Trevors out there somewhere?”  
   
“Right here!” came Lom's deep voice from the back of the schoolhouse.  
   
“Ah good,” Jacobs looked relieved. “The more lawmen I can keep here in town the better. You and Joe will stay here. Things could get crazy and I'll be needin' ya.”  
   
Lom nodded his agreement to that plan and Martha smiled with relief.  
   
“I don't mind being out on the line, Carl,” David protested once he had the chance. “I might be of more use out there and John is quite capable of handling any injuries that get sent back here.”  
   
Jacob sighed. “I know that but I would prefer that both of you stay in town. You can equip the wagons with medical supplies and there will be some fellas out there who know a bit about doctorin'. At least enough to get 'em into town.” He paused, scanning the crowd in front of him. “You out there John?”  
   
A hand went up near the center of the group.  
   
“Right here Carl,” the older medical man responded. “Me and Mary are glad to help out, of course. I ain't no young buck anymore anyways so I'm quite happy to stay put.”  
   
“All the more reason why I should go out,” David persisted. “We could get some serious injuries that need to be seen to right away...”  
   
“But we don't need anything happening to our doctor,” Jacobs cut him off. “I want you staying in town. Dammit! Where's Heyes when we could actually use him? He's not a real doctor, but what he learned in that prison would be of real assistance.  
“Anyway, you folks who have homes in town here, I'm hoping you'll take in some of the ranching families, they'll be needing places to stay.”  
   
“I'm not sure how many we can take in,” Tricia responded. “If things get bad we might need our house for the injured.”  
   
“That's fine Tricia,” Jacobs assured her. “That kinda goes without saying.”  
   
“I'm sure Heyes wouldn't mind us openin' up their place,” Jed offered. “Just 'cause he ain't here don't mean he wouldn't help out.”  
   
“I know Jed,” Jacobs answered. “I meant nothing by it. Just thinking out loud.”  
   
“We have plenty of room at our place,” came Millicent's voice from out on the porch.  
   
“And ours!”  
   
“Us too!”  
   
More offers came in as more of the town's women would not be outdone by their neighbours.  
   
“There's also the hat shop with the living quarters in back,” Beth pointed out. “It wouldn't take long to open it up and get it freshened out!”  
   
“Good,” Jacobs nodded. “I'm going to be sending telegrams to our neighbouring towns further down the line and request that they send people here to help out. It would be to their advantage. If Brookswood goes, their towns will be the next up in smoke. But that brings up the issue of feeding all these folks. Things are going to get busy once fellas start coming back from the front line, so in the mean time if the ladies still in town can start putting food parcels together. Maybe even some box lunches that can be taken out to the men fighting the fire. Get these things together now while we have time.”  
   
“The church will of course be opened up for whoever needs a place,” Reverend Sikes offered. “And we've got food already in preparation due to the wedding.”  
   
“And that's what it's for!” Harry's voice sounded from one of the open windows. “It's my weddin' day!”  
   
“Not today Briscoe,” Jacobs told him. “Weddin's postponed until this emergency has been dealt with. Sorry.”  
   
“No!” came a shrieking wail from another window. “Do you know how long I've waited for my wedding day!? You can't postpone it, you just can't!”  
   
Just about everyone in attendance rolled their eyes.  
   
“It can't be helped, Miss Isabelle,” Jacobs told her. “Your man ain't goin' nowhere's. You'll still get your weddin'. But right now.....”  
   
“No! That's just not fair!”  
   
“Stop your carryin' on, ya' silly little twerp.” came another voice from the same general direction. “If'n your man tries to use this as an excuse ta' not carry through with it, you know dang well yer brothers'll skin 'em alive!”  
   
“But Papa....!”  
   
“Enough! Now get on home with ya'! Yer embarrassin' us....”  
   
Despite the gravity of the situation, chuckles rippled through the schoolhouse as the sounds of the arguing duo faded into the distance. Ole' man Baird was a fine one to accuse someone else of being an embarrassment to the family. That grouch never lifted a hand to help out in emergencies and his two sons were just as useless.  
   
Harry was being uncharacteristically quiet.  
   
“Thank you Reverend Sikes,” Jacobs got the meeting on track again. “So long as we all pull together and help out wherever we see it needed, we will get through this. Okay, you all know what to do. Dammit Eric, what are you doin' still standin' around! Go get your teams hitched up. That goes for any other buckboards and wagons in town. Get them hitched up people. Let's go!”  
   
Everyone scattered to tend to their own preparations.  
   
Wagons from outlying ranches were beginning to arrive in town, and Jed recognized Daisy right off as the filly trotted past him and was being directed over to the nearest empty hitching rail. Right behind her came Monty pulling his own open surrey with family intact. Behind them came the Jefferies with Maribelle at the lines.  
   
All three conveyances were filled to bursting with family members, precious belongings that had been grabbed at the last minute along with small dogs, cats and even a caged bird that were not going to be left behind to face the oncoming destruction alone.

“Beth!” Jed called as he broke into a run, dodging around other townsfolk as they also made haste to get preparations under way.  
   
Beth looked up just as she was pulling Daisy to a halt, and she smiled with relief and delight as she met her husband's eyes.  
   
“Jed!” she responded as she practically jumped from the carriage and into her husband's arms.  
   
“Thank goodness you got here safe,” he said as he hugged her to him, then looked around at the rest of the arrivals. “All of you!” he added with a grin. “Even the dogs.”  
   
Peanut and Pebbles had started barking as soon as they had entered the outskirts of town and were not about to let up now. Especially since they had competition from the town's dogs in adding to the mayhem. Each pack insisted that they were the ones in charge and the vociferous barking only increased with each new arrival.

Beth turned back to her carriage to get T.J.'s bassinet while Jed moved to help Belle down from her perch.  
   
“Belle,” he greeted her. “Is Jesse not coming in?”  
   
“No,” Belle answered with concern obvious in her voice. “I know we have Sam and Ben there not to mention the other hands who are out on the range, but this is still such a worry. We must get more help out there.”  
   
“We are Belle,” Jed assured her. “Everybody's gettin' ready. We'll have teams out there buildin' a fire break before ya' know it.”  
   
“Fanny's out there!” Sally was still crying, tears running streaks down her face. “She's too old to outrun a fire!”  
   
“She won't need ta' outrun it Darlin',” Jed tried to reassure her. “We're gonna do everything we can ta' keep our horses safe, alright?”  
   
Sally nodded but sniffed all the same. She didn't like leaving her horse out at the ranch. She should have come into town with them where she would be safe.  
   
“Where are we needed?” the ever sensible Belle asked.

“Let's get you folks settled in over at Heyes' place first,” Jed suggested. “It'll be a bit cramped, but it'll do. We can put Daisy and Monty and the Jefferies' horse out in the pasture that Heyes bought last month, but we might have to offer them and the carriages to move people and supplies up to the fire break.”  
   
Beth caught her breath as she tried to sooth a crying T.J. “Oh no,” she stressed. “Do you really think they're going to need our horses? Daisy is so young, She's already had the scare of her life with this, I'd hate to have to send her back out there.”  
   
“I know,” Jed commiserated. “Hopefully they won't be needed. There's enough workin' horses here and out on the ranches to do the job but we need to make the offer just in case.”  
   
“I understand,” Belle agreed, cutting off her daughter's protests. “Whatever is needed.”  
   
“I can go fight the fire,” J.J. offered as he patted the two little dogs. “I'm big enough.”  
   
“No you're not, young man!” Belle was quick to dissuade him. “You will be staying right here in town with us.”  
   
“Awww!”  
   
“I think I've got just the job for you J.J.,” Jed offered as he ruffled the boys blond hair. “How about you and Todd and some of the other boys in town build a firebreak around our house?”  
   
“Yeah!” J.J. jumped down from the carriage, the two little dogs in close pursuit. “I'm gonna go find Nathan! We'll build our own firebreak! C'mon Todd!”  
   
“Wait up!” Todd yelled as he hit the ground running.  
   
“Don't get underfoot!” Maribelle called after them but the boys were long gone and probably didn't hear her. “Oh dear. I hope they don't get themselves into trouble.”  
   
“Boys will be boys,” Merle commented from her seat in the carriage. She saw no good reason to get out until they reached their final destination. “I'm sure they know this town backwards and forwards. They'll be fine.”  
   
“Well,” said Belle. “let's get everybody settled in. Has anyone had any breakfast yet?”  
   
“I expect most people in town had something to eat before the alarm was sounded,” said Jed. “Maybe once you're settled you should all get something. Jacobs wants us all back here in...ooops, fifteen minutes now. I better get crackin'!”  
   
“Yes alright,” Belle agreed. “Then I expect we ladies will call our own town meeting. I'm sure there is going to be plenty for us to do.”  
   
Jed smiled at Belle's usual common sense taking over. “You got that right,” he called over his shoulder as he ran on ahead towards Heyes' residence. I gotta get movin'!”  
   
xxx  
   
Twenty minutes later the schoolhouse was once again the center of activity as everyone congregated back there again.  
   
“Kenny,” Jed greeted his friend. “I bet you didn't expect to be pulling fire brigade duty when ya' come here for a weddin'.”  
   
Kenny shrugged and smiled. “Life is full of surprises. I know I'm not a young buck anymore but I can hold up my end.”  
   
“I'll do what I can too,” Steven stated. “I never was a rancher; more for books than shovels but if Jesse's out there doing it then I suppose I can too.”  
   
“Good,” Jed agreed. “What are you lookin' so sullen about Harry? Still mad that yer weddin's been postponed.”  
   
“Well wouldn't you be?” Harry griped. “I was suppose to be havin' a good time tonight. Instead I'm gonna be out there in them hills, tryin' not ta' get burnt alive. Besides,” he added with a snark, “my good buddies Larry and Barry have up and disappeared. Looks like they was just here for the party and didn't want to stick around fer the nuptials.”  
   
“It's more likely they didn't want to stick around for the fire,” Steven commented. “I guess they figure they're safe enough in Denver.”  
   
“Look who's coming to join the party,” Kenny pointed to three fellas making their way towards them.  
   
“Wheat, Kyle,” Jed grinned at his friends but only gave Ames a quick nod of acknowledgment. He still wasn't sure if he'd forgiven the youngster for the last fire they had attended. Then he frowned as another thought occurred to him. “I don't think it's a good idea for you to be goin' out there Wheat.”  
   
“What do ya' mean?” Wheat blustered. “We come for a shindig and a shindig is what we're gonna get. No little ole' forest fire is gonna get in the way of some good eatin'.”  
   
“Yeah,” Kyle grinned. “'Sides, Isabelle's sister is gonna be there—ah—at the weddin' I mean, not the fire. You know....”  
   
“Uh huh.”  
   
Jed and Steven nodded their understanding. Kenny was more focused on Kyle's young companion  
   
“I would suggest you try not to look quite so excited, Mr. Ames,” the prison warden cautioned the ex-convict. “Those of us who know you may start to worry.”  
   
“Oh!” Ames looked contrite, then embarrassed. “No, I just...I mean...no sir! I'm not excited sir. Just eager to get out there and...well help, you know. Ahh.....”  
   
The other men present watched Ames struggling with his personal demons. Kenny and Jed both wondered if it was a good idea to allow Mr. Ames anywhere near the flames but Kyle was grinning his support.  
   
“He's doin' good!” Murtry insisted. “Ain't even thought about startin' a fire since that last time. Have ya' Ames?”  
   
Ames dropped his eyes, not looking at anyone. “No,” he answered quietly.  
   
“See!” Kyle grinned some more, chewing on his tobacco.  
   
Kenny and Jed exchanged a look.  
   
“He'll be fine,” Wheat insisted. “Fer one thing, he knows I'll kill 'em if I catch 'em doin' anything stupid. Don't ya' Ames.”  
   
“Yessir. Nothin' stupid.”  
   
“I still don't think it's a good idea for you to be goin' out there Wheat,” Jed reiterated. “I know you quit smokin' 'cause 'a how it made you cough. What do ya' think a whole forest of cigars is gonna feel like?”  
   
“Aw shoot, Kid,” Wheat spit on the ground. “Yur turnin' into a real mother hen. I can look after myself.”  
   
“Uh huh. David!” Jed called his friend over.  
   
David waved and trotted up to the group but his smile faded as his eyes fell upon Wheat Carlson. Wheat snarled.  
   
“Oh Mr. Carlson,” he ventured cautiously. “You weren't planning on going out there, were you?”  
   
“Oh now Doc, don't you start in on me!” Wheat complained. “I sure ain't gonna sit around here with the women and children. Yer lettin' that little firebug go and somebody's gotta keep an eye on him.”  
   
“I'll watch out fer 'em Wheat,” Kyle offered with a grin. “I sure wouldn't want you gettin' sick agin like ya' did over in Kansas. And you was coughin' somethin' awful after we done burnt down Devil's Hole”  
   
Wheat sent Kyle a look that would hardened tobacco but Kyle simply grinned bigger and spit.  
   
“Your friend is right,” David reiterated. “Smoke inhalation is what usually kills people during a fire, not the flames. Even fellows who are healthy are going to be finding it difficult. I'm afraid I can't give you leave to go.”  
   
“Well you just try and stop me Doc...”  
   
“I'll have Sheriff Jacobs lock you up if you insist.”  
   
Jed smiled. David won't take lip from anybody, not even a crusty old ex-outlaw like Wheat Carlson.  
   
“What!?” Wheat's voiced did its usual rise in tone. “You mean you'd actually have me thrown in jail fer just tryin' ta' help out...!”  
   
“Carl!”  
   
Sheriff Jacobs turned his horse towards the beckoning and trotted over.  
   
“What's up Doc?”  
   
“Oh fer Christ's sake!” Wheat complained. “Fine! Don't feel right though, just sittin' here doin' nothin' while everyone else is out there keepin' busy.”  
   
“I wouldn't worry about that Mr. Carlson,” David assured him. “I have a feeling it's going to get busy here over the next 24 hours. There'll be plenty for you to do.”  
   
Jacobs sat back in his saddle and rested his hands on the horn.  
   
“Everything alright here?” he asked with a hint of frustration. “I got enough to do without having to deal with other people's arguments.”  
   
“We're good here Carl,” David assured him. “Mr. Carlson simply needed some persuasion to stay in town, considering his health issues.”  
   
Jacobs hesitated then sent Wheat a look that made the crusty ex-outlaw nervous.  
   
“You're staying in town Mr. Carlson?”  
   
Wheat grumbled. “Appears so.”  
   
“Good,” Jacobs stated. “I'll need as much help as I can get keeping this town running smooth. You go track down Joe. Tell him I sent ya' over there and he'll swear ya' in as a temporary deputy.”  
   
“WHAT!?” cough, cough. “You expect me ta'...!”

“Yes!” Jacobs told him pointedly. “I do!”  
   
The sheriff then turned his horse and trotted away, thereby ending any argument.  
   
“Well, I'm glad that's settled Wheat,” Jed grinned and gave the old outlaw a slap on the shoulder.  
   
“Yeah yeah,” Wheat griped as he turned and walked away. “I should'a taken that Morrison out when I had the chance.” He turned and shouted back at the group of men. “Life just ain't been the same since I run inta' that bastard!”  
   
“What's his problem?” asked Clancy Gilmore, the owner of the mercantile and he approached the group with a sack full of work gloves. “Ain't there enough problems without startin' up new ones?”  
   
“Aw, he's jest complainin' 'cause he can't go fight the fire,” Kyle smirked. “Gotta stay in town nursemaidin' the we'men.” He and Ames snorkeled and elbowed each other over their little joke.  
   
“What a shame,” Clancy grumbled under his breath and then set about handing out the gloves.  
“Here ya' go fellas,” he said as he gave them all a pair. “Courtesy of the merc. Got supplies already in the wagons for those who ain't got their own. Just appreciate ya' return 'em to me when we're all done here.”  
   
“Yeah sure, Clance,” Jed agreed. “Don't know what kinda' shape they'll be in but we'll try and return 'em.”  
   
“Donations are also acceptable.” He moved on to continue his distribution.  
   
“Okay let's get going!” came from Sheriff Jacobs as he rode his horse through the groups of men hovering around the wagons. “Climb aboard everybody, we got us a fire to put out!”  
   
An enthusiastic cheer when up amongst the crowd and everybody started piling into whichever wagon was closest to them.  
   
Xxx  
   
The numerous buckboards and freight wagons headed out of town in various directions but all towards the long line of the fire. Bear Creek ran across the path of the approaching inferno and though it was deep and wide in places, there were other areas of it where a fire could jump it easily enough. The plan was to get to that creek and make a fire break wide enough so that the two barriers combined would stop the blaze in its tracks. Homes on the fire side of the creek were already considered lost so focus had to be kept on saving as much of the valuable timber and grasslands as they could.  
   
Xxx  
   
   
As soon as his family was well on it's way, Jesse quickly harnessed up his two draft horses to the buckboard. He loaded the vehicle with as many digging and chopping utensils as he could find and even thought to bring along some blankets and buckets to gather water from the stream. He would head towards the line cabins first and collect as many of his employees as he could but he hoped most of them were already on their way to the danger zone. He would need every hand he had in his employ if they wanted to save the Double J and the smaller surrounding properties and he was not about to let his neighbours down.  
   
He had one more thing to do before he left his property though. He decided he didn't want to chance leaving the horses trapped in the pasture. Panicking, they could very well break their way out through the fence but he didn't want to take the chance of injury on any of them. He made sure his team was well secured and headed to the pasture.  
   
He opened the gate and sent Ellie in to herd the horses out. She barked excitedly, happy to be given a job she knew how to do. With hardly a signal from her boss, she bounded through the open gate and ran full speed towards the small band of horses packed up against the far fence line.

They saw her coming and though normally they tended to ignore the young dog when she was playing, this time they knew she was serious. With necks arched and nostrils blowing, they danced away from her and tried to avoid letting her get behind them. But Ellie was getting very good at her job and she avoided the hooves and slipped in behind to start nipping at them and driving them forward.  
   
The horses didn't want to go. The dog was pressuring them to move towards the oncoming fire. The blaze was still a long way off but the animals knew what it was and where it was and the horses at least, wanted nothing to do with it. They tried to dash away from the pesky dog but Ellie was too quick for them. Barking with authority, she dashed back and forth, nipping at heels and skipping away from kicks, until she had the band moving in the right direction.  
   
Once they started to move the horses picked up speed and in no time flat, they covered the distance from the far fence to the gate and then they were through it. They tried to head for the barn which had always been a place of safety before, but again that pesky dog circled around and wouldn't let them get near it.  
   
Jesse closed the pasture gate and waved Ellie around to push the horses past the house and up the hill towards the lands which should remain safe from the fire. It didn't take much for Ellie to get the band together and moving in the appropriate direction. Once the horses realized that they were being allowed to run away from the smell of the smoke they didn't need any more encouraging. With ole' Buck taking the lead since he knew the way, the band headed for the hills and would join up with the range herd and hopefully stay safe with them.  
   
Once the horses were well on their way, Jesse whistled and called Ellie back to him. She came at a wild gallop, with tongue lolling out and a huge smile on her face. She skidded to a halt at Jesse's feet and jumped around him in overjoyed ecstasy but was careful not to lay paws upon him. Even in her excitement she knew that was a no no. Jesse praised her and motioned her up onto the buckboard. He didn't know what use she would be fighting a forest fire but he sure as shootin' wasn't going to leave her here. The barn cats and chickens would have to fend for themselves, even if Jesse could find them.  
   
Half an hour with the team at a hand gallop found the buckboard rattling and jolting its way through the Curry homestead. Jesse didn't stop but pushed the horses onwards and shortly after that he spotted two riders galloping towards him. As they got closer he recognized Sam and Deke and felt a strong sense of relief wash over him. He knew these two at least would be on the ball.  
   
Everybody pulled their horses to a halt and took a precious moment to confer.  
   
“Mr. Jordan!” Deke greeted him as he pulled his horse around. “Glad we run inta' ya'!”  
   
“Where is everyone?” Jesse asked his trusted hand. “Have you seen them?”  
   
“Yessir,” Deke assured him. “We run inta' Taggart and Levi and told 'em ta' collect up as many of the other hands as they could and head over ta' Bear Creek. I figure if'n we all meet up there we can make plans.”  
   
Jesse nodded and was just about to comment when they heard shots being fired from behind them. They all turned to see what was going on and spotted another horseman galloping towards them from the direction of town. A minute later a lather covered Berry slid to a halt and danced around the buckboard still under the control of his adrenaline rush.  
   
“Ben!” Jesse greeted him. “Didn't you get into town?”  
   
“Yessir, I did,” Ben assured him. “Sheriff Jacobs sent me right back out again. They got a game plan and they want to make sure everyone knows what's goin' on. They's plannin' on buildin' a fire break along Bear Creek. If we can get a whole line a' fellas workin' the stretch we just might stop this thing in its tracks.”  
   
“That's where we're headed,” Jesse assured him. “Hopefully most of my men will meet us there by Hollow Tree Mesa.”  
   
Ben nodded and started to turn away.  
   
“Shouldn't you be staying with us Ben?” Jesse suggested. “You don't want to be caught out here alone.”  
   
“No sir,” Ben told him. “I still need to run by a couple a' more spreads. There's still plenty a' fellas who didn't get into town. I gotta let 'em know what we're doin'!”  
   
“Okay Ben,” Jesse accepted that. “Good luck—and be careful! And look after my horse!”  
   
Ben tipped his hat and turning Berry around, headed off at right angles to spread the word at the other ranches.  
   
“Okay boys, we know where we need to be,” Jesse commented. “Get going and get the men organized. I'll get there as quickly as I can.”  
   
“Yessir, Mr. Jordan,” Deke nodded and turned his horse away.  
   
“Do you know anything about my family Mr. Jordan?” Sam asked before he followed Deke. “Did they get into town alright?”  
   
“I don't know for sure Sam,” Jesse admitted. “But Belle and Beth would have gone right by your place. Chances are they're all together.”  
   
Sam nodded and allowed his mare to turn and gallop off after Deke. Jesse slapped the horses with the lines and they started up again, quickly escalating into the ground-covering lope. He kept them at this gait for five miles until they were forced to slow down due to the changing landscape. The flat dry grasslands gradually morphed into the more heavily wooded slopes and Jesse got busy navigating the team through the increasingly dense stands of timber.  
   
There was a road as such that allowed logging equipment to get in and out of the region and of course, the wagons hauling lumber needed reasonably maintained roads to keep production up. But even at that these roads had to be traversed with care. Fallen logs, pit holes and scattered rocks could all cause serious damage to a wagon wheel and that was the last thing they needed now.  
   
The horses themselves knew this road well enough and despite the increasing acrid smell of smoke on the breeze, they pulled true and stayed on course. All Jesse had to do was keep an eye on the road ahead. Ellie helped to keep them going with a constant cacophony of barking.

 

Xxx  
   
   
Jesse pulled the blowing team to a halt along the bank of Bear Creek. Most of his men were already there and anxiously watching the approaching smoke cloud. Flames were not in sight yet and with any luck the wind would stay relatively calm and not encourage the fire to move towards them any faster than it already was.  
   
Eager faces turned at the sound of the buckboard arriving and before Jesse could step down, men were surrounding the vehicle and attempting to grab axes and shovels and picks. Ellie wasn't pleased about this attack at all and with loud barking and bared teeth, she ran back and forth the length of the wagon bed, snarling at anyone who got too close.  
   
“Ellie! Stand down!” Jesse ordered her as he jumped into the back to control the dog. “You're a good girl but just relax.”  
   
Ellie wagged her tail and came to stand by her boss as Sam climbed into the wagon bed to help out.  
   
“Good girl,” he praised the dog and gave her a quick pat on the head.  
   
Ellie got the message and was willing to stand by and watch as Jesse and Sam handed out the equipment to the men surrounding the wagon. She kept a close eye on things though just to make sure nobody was taking advantage or trying to steal anything.  
   
Once everyone was equipped with something, both men jumped down from the buckboard and Jesse called them all to order.  
   
“Okay fellas,” Jesse began. “Now most of you have fought fires before so I don't need to go into too much detail here. You other fellas who haven't, see to it that you team up with someone who is experienced. Deke, I'll leave it to you to get teams organized.”  
   
“Sure enough Boss,” Deke agreed.  
   
“We're on the far edge of this fire,” Jesse continued. “so we only need to work for about a mile to the west. But we'll have to clear a firebreak about ten feet wide all the way along the bank here. Fortunately the creek itself is a natural deterrent, but it's not going to be wide enough on this stretch so we're just going to have to help it along.  
“Clear all the brush and vegetation away for ten feet. That includes the trees and for goodness sakes don't let them fall across the creek. Make sure they fall inland. Any trees that fall across the creek, you're going to have to take the time to cut up or drag back onto this side. We don't want to give the fire any kind of a bridge across.  
“Everybody understand what we're trying to do here?”  
   
“Yessir, Mr. Jordan.” came the answers back.  
   
“Yessir.”  
   
“Yep, we know.”  
   
“Okay,” Jesse nodded. “I want ten men working west and the rest of you working east. I'm going to ride east along the bank until I meet up with the rest of the crews. I'll get back here as soon as I know what everyone else has planned. And for God's sake, if the fire gets too close then get out of here. I know we all have property and livestock and jobs to save, but none of that is worth a man's life. Understood?”  
   
“Yessir.”  
   
“Understood.”  
   
“Good. Deke, you're in charge,” Jesse told him. “And Sam, you back him up. Pay attention to what the fire is doing and don't let yourselves get trapped here. Same goes for the smoke. If it gets really bad then move out. That smoke will kill you faster than the flames.”  
   
“Don't you worry about that Mr. Jordan,” Deke assured him. “I've fought enough of these burners ta' know when ta' git out.”  
   
“We'll get it done, Mr. Jordan,” Sam assured him.  
   
“Alright, get to work.”  
   
“You heard the boss!” Deke shouted. “Let's git goin'!”  
   
The men collected up their various tools and followed Deke to get their orders.  
   
“Sam,” Jesse stopped the young man.  
   
“Yessir.”  
   
“I'll need to borrow your horse,” he said. “I'll leave the buckboard here for you fellas to use when it's time to leave . That way you can pack the tools out with you as well as any injuries.”   
   
“Oh yessir,” Sam agreed. “We'll be mindful of it. I'll go get Ginger. She's a good mare—well you know that. I'll get her for you. She'll look after you fine.”  
   
“Thank you.”  
   
Sam went off to gather up his horse while Jesse collected his rifle and some canteens of water from the driver's seat of the buckboard. By the time he was organized, Sam was trotting back to him with the mare in tow and handed over the reins.  
   
Jesse swung aboard.  
   
“I'll take care of her Sam,” Jesse assured him. “You'll get her back.”  
   
“I know that.”  
   
Jesse sent him a quick smile and turning the mare away from them, pushed her up into a gallop along the sandier stretch of the creek bank. Sam grabbed his pickaxe and trotted over to where Deke was handing out orders and getting the work teams organized.  
   
Ellie stood in the buckboard watching all the commotion and wondering what her job was suppose to be in all this. Then when her boss galloped off without a word to her and Sam also took his leave, she began to whine in some consternation. She stood for a moment with her front paws up on the siding of the buckboard and watched her boss disappear along the creek bank and she began to bark. She looked around to see if anyone was paying any attention and whined again as she realized she was all on her own.  
   
She hadn't been invited to join her boss as he rode away, but he hadn't actually ordered her to stay with the buckboard either. There was nothing of value left in the buckboard for her to guard and though one could argue that it was the buckboard itself she should be guarding, she had not been specifically told to do so.  
   
One more whine, a lick of the lips and her decision was made. With a final bark, she jumped out of the buckboard and galloped after her boss. It wasn't until Jesse had to slow the mare down to get across more rugged terrain that he noticed he had company and by that time it was too late to send her back.  
   
“What are you doing here?” he asked her. “You were suppose to stay with the buckboard.”  
   
Ellie laughed up at him then carried on navigating the terrain.  
   
Jesse smiled and shook his head. Maybe she would be safer sticking close to him after all. He kept the horse moving forward at a lively trot trying to cover the rough ground quickly, but not risk the mare's legs. He would give anything to have Berry under him at this point but everyone seemed to be riding whatever horse was available and Sam's quick little sorrel mare was just as good as any other.  
   
They were making good time but in circumstances like these everything seemed to take too long and Jesse felt anxious about getting over the trail and meeting up with the other crews from town. He repeatedly glanced to his right, towards the mountain ridges that hid the spreading fire. It was as though his eyes were being drawn towards the one thing he didn't want to see and also knowing that it could not be avoided.  
   
The fire was still some distance off and only the smoke billowing along the horizon betrayed the fact that devastation laying beneath it was inexorably creeping closer with every minute that passed. Then a soft breeze ruffled the mare's mane and Jesse's nose tingled with the scent of burning wood. Ginger snorted and tossed her head, she could smell it too and knew exactly what it predicted. She mouthed her bit and scooted a little, trying to bolt for cover even though there was no real cover to be had.  
   
“Whoa, easy girl,” Jesse soothed her and gave her a pat on the neck.  
   
She snorted again but steadied her gait and the trio carried on until a bend in the creek revealed more wagons up ahead.  
   
Ellie broke into a gallop and barking a joyous greeting, she ran up to Jed just as everyone was climbing out of the wagons and getting organized.  
   
“Hey Ellie!” Jed was taken by surprised. “What are you doin' here?”  
   
“Hey Jed.”  
   
Jed looked up and smiled at his father-in-law.  
   
“Jesse! We was hopin' ya' got the message.”  
   
“Yes,” Jesse confirmed as he stepped down from the saddle. “Ben met up with us. I have a crew of my men working about two miles to the west. I rode this way to see if you fellas were here yet and to make sure our lines meet up.”  
   
“Howdy Jesse,” Jacobs greeted the rancher. “Good thing ya' did. We have to keep track of where everybody is.”  
   
“Carl!” Jesse returned the greeting. “I didn't expect to see you out here. Shouldn't you be staying in town?”  
   
“Oh, don't worry,” Jacobs assured him. “I'll be heading back there real soon. Buildin' a fire break is a young man's job. Speakin' of which—what the hell are you doin' out here?”  
   
Jesse smiled. “Looking after my interests Carl,” he admitted. “I have too much invested in this land to just sit back and watch it go up in smoke.”  
   
“You have a good point,” Jacobs conceded. “but my place is back in town. I'll just get these fellas organized and then be headin' back. You be careful out here Jesse, you hear?”  
   
Jesse smiled again. “Yessir Sheriff.”  
   
Jacobs snorted and went about organizing his men.  
   
“He might have a point,” Jed commented to the older man. “You ain't a young'un anymore.”  
   
“I'm fine Jed,” Jesse assured him. “Somebody's gotta be out here keeping you hotheads from getting burned alive.”  
   
“Uh huh.”  
   
“Hey Kid,” Harry got his friend's attention. “I ain't so young anymore either—I've been thinkin' that I just might head back into town with that sheriff. You know, just to help out with the plannin' and keepin' the ladies calm. You know how the ladies can get in a crisis....”  
   
Jed looked over at the scrawny man who was toting a pickaxe that weighted about the same as he did.  
   
“But Harry!” Jed countered him. “I thought you'd be all gun ho ta' be out here, doin' a man's job. What better way ta' impress yer young bride-ta-be than to be savin' the town from a forest fire?”  
   
“I'd be impressin' her more by showin' up at my weddin'!” Harry complained. “Why, we were supposed ta' be gettin' married right on this very hour!”  
   
“I don't think the fire cares about that Harry,” Jed pointed out. “If not ta' impress Isabelle, then what about her father and brothers?”  
   
“What about 'em?”  
   
“Well ya' don't see them out here do ya'?”  
   
“That's 'cause they're smarter than the rest of us!” Harry groused.  
   
“Or just plain cowardly,” Jed countered again. “Think how much you'd be impressin' her paw bein' out here, fightin' this fire and helpin' ta' save their ranch while those no good, two-bit, useless son's 'a his are cowerin' under their beds like school boys.”  
   
Harry stopped and thought about that.  
   
“You just might have a point there Kid.”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
“I could be a hero.”  
   
“Isabelle won't mind her weddin' bein' delayed so much if'n her man comes back to town as a genuine hero.”  
   
Harry puffed up and smiled. “Yeah!”  
   
He took a deep breath and heaved the pickaxe up onto his shoulder. He instantly lost control of it and it swung around, causing both Jed and Jesse to duck out from under the deadly weapon. Then with a loud thump, the pick came down and impaled itself into the dirt. Harry began to pull and tug on the tool in a futile effort to dislodge it.  
   
“You think you're gonna be able to handle that, Harry?” Jed asked him.  
   
“Sure Kid!” Harry insisted as he continued to haul on the handle. “Just let me get it out....of the...ground....”  
   
Jacobs showed up then, carrying a shovel. He snatched the handle of the pick out from Harry's grasp and tossed the shovel to him.  
   
“Here!” Jacobs told him. “Before ya' go killin' somebody.”  
   
“Oh, ah thank you Sheriff.”  
   
“Uh huh.” Jacobs gave the pickaxe a quick tug and pulled it free of the earth. Swinging it up onto his shoulder he sent the two other men a frustrated glance and headed back towards the work crew. The pickaxe was quickly handed over to a well developed rancher's son.  
   
Harry tested the weight of the shovel and smiled his approval.  
   
“This will do quite nicely,” he stated. “Yes siree. Just right.” And he walked off to join up with the crew.  
   
Jesse and Jed exchanged looks.  
   
“Maybe he would be better off in town,” Jesse commented.  
   
“Yeah, but just think how impressed Isabelle will be if he sticks this out?” Jed answered. “Not to mention his future father-in-law. I'll keep an eye on 'im.”  
   
“Okay....”  
   
xxx  
   
Evening and darkening skies found the crews still hard at work clearing the break. The air was becoming more difficult to breathe and the sound of men coughing was becoming a norm as everyone labored on. The coming of darkness also brought with it an ominous warning. A bright red glow could be seen highlighting the ridges of the local mountains. There was no denying that the fire was getting closer and everyone pushed harder through their weariness in order to get the fire break done in time. They should manage it—as long as the wind didn't pick up....

xxx

Eli was doing a good job of arranging the increased luggage onto the spare seat inside the clarence while his two passengers said their 'goodbyes' inside the alcove of the mansion.  
   
“Thank you Silky,” Heyes said and meant it as he shook the old man's hand. “We'll keep in touch.”  
   
“Ya better!” Silky threw back at him. “I wanna meet yer young'uns—and the Kid's too, so I expect ta' see ya' back here lickety-split.”

Heyes grinned. “Yes we will.”  
   
“Thank you Silky, for everything,” Miranda said as she leaned in to give the old geezer a kiss on the cheek.  
   
“Oh well, hee hee hee,” Silky gushed, almost blushing with pleasure. “Well now that's just fine. Real pleasure ta' meet ya'. You take good care a' yer wife here Hannibal. No holdin' back or playin' seconds.”   
   
“No that won't happen,” Heyes assured him. “I know when I've got it good.”  
   
“Well it's about time!” Silky just couldn't resist getting in the last word. “Off ya' go or you'll be missin' yer train.”  
   
Heyes helped Miranda step up into the conveyance and with one final nod to their host, stepped in himself and settled into the plush seats. The door closed and Eli clucked the team of grays into a trot that would take them back to the starting point of their San Francisco visit.

Once inside their private suite on board the train to Yuma, the couple settled into the arm chairs by the window to watch as they slowly pulled out of the station. They both smiled and waved at pedestrians even though they didn't know any of them and then heaved big sighs of relaxation as the train picked up speed and clattered its way through the outskirts of the big city.  
   
“So,” Heyes smiled at his wife. “Did you enjoy San Francisco? I mean, my San Francisco.”  
   
Miranda looked at him coyly. “Yes Hannibal I did,” she assured him. “I wasn't sure about Silky at first, but he truly is a fine man and he does care about you a great deal.”  
   
“Yes I know,” he admitted. “We talked while you were out shopping. He said some things that surprised me but—they were good things. We're fine.”  
   
“I'm glad,” Miranda told him. “I would hate to think that there was a rift between you—there is so much history there. I'm glad you've worked it out.”  
   
A discreet knock on the door interrupted their talk.  
   
“Yes?”  
   
George opened the door and politely poked his head inside.  
   
“Would sir and madam enjoy coffee and pastries?” he asked. “Lunch will not be served for another couple of hours.”  
   
“Oh.” Hannibal glanced over to his wife. They had just finished a rather large breakfast of fried herring with eggs, bacon and tomatoes so did they really need anything more? Miranda smiled wickedly at him. They were on their honeymoon; what did 'need' have to do with anything? “Yes,” he answered politely. “Coffee and pastries would be very nice. Thank you.”  
   
xxx  
   
The couple took a light lunch in their suite and then were content to sit back and enjoy the scenery slide by outside their window. The city of San Francisco had long ago faded away into the distance and once they were past San Jose, the desert, rolling hills and distant ranges of the Santa Lucas Mountains took over viewing pleasure. The small towns of Salinas and San Lucas cropped up and drifted by as the afternoon clattered on.  
   
By the time the train came chugging through Obispo it was well past midnight and Hannibal and Miranda were thinking that they really should head for bed. George had been by much earlier and pulled the bed down in anticipation of passengers retiring for the night so they were already seated on top of the blankets, as there was nowhere else to sit. There really was no excuse to stay up longer but the night scene out their window was hard to turn off.   
   
Finally Miranda pulled down the window blind and the couple undressed and got themselves settled under the sheets where they relaxed in each other's arms. They lay together like that for a few moments, feeling the rhythm of the train keeping time with the subtle clackety-clack of the wheels turning beneath them.   
   
“Are you tired?” Hannibal asked quietly.  
   
Miranda sighed dramatically. “No not really,” she admitted. “I doubt very much that I will be able to sleep.”  
   
“No me neither,” her husband agreed.  
   
Rolling over onto his side, Heyes raised the blind on their large picture window. They both re-arranged themselves so they could lay on their stomachs with chins resting on hands and pillows tucked under their arms for support and once again stared out at the amazing star-studded nightscape.   
   
“Wow that's amazing,” he muttered in total awe of the immense view. “I've seen it so many times; me and Kid sleeping out under the stars but I never seem to get enough of it. It's different here too. Don't ask me why or in what way, it just is.”  
   
“It seems to go on forever,” she agreed. “It's hard to imagine that. It must end somewhere.”  
   
“Hmm,” was Hannibal's lazy response. “From what I've read about it, astronomers think that it does go on forever.”  
   
“How is that possible?” Miranda asked him skeptically. “It can't just go on forever.”  
   
He shrugged. “I donno. And if it does end then what's after that?”  
   
“Isn't that where God is suppose to be?”  
   
“I donno,” Hannibal said again. “Some say it is and on a night like this I could believe it.”  
   
Miranda cuddled in closer. “I like to think that William is up there, watching over me.”  
   
“Hmm.”  
   
“And your friend, Doctor Morin?”  
   
Hannibal smiled softly. “Yeah I hope so.”  
   
“You still miss him?”  
   
“Oh yes,” Hannibal was adamant about that. “I didn't know him for very long, but he sure had an influence over me. I don't think I'll ever stop missing him. I know I'll never forget him.”  
   
“Then I hope he is out there watching over you,” Miranda whispered. “We all need a guardian angel.”   
   
Hannibal rolled onto his side and smiled at his wife.  
   
“I don't think Doc would appreciate being referred to as an angel.”  
   
Miranda giggled. “Well perhaps an angel with a tarnished halo.”  
   
“Yeah.”  
   
They settled back onto their pillows again and went back to watching the stars glittering up the night sky. They were quiet for some minutes, allowing the regular motion of the train to lull them into their own thoughts and musings. Heyes was just about to nod off to sleep in that position when Randa quietly brought up another topic.  
   
“Have you thought about it?” she asked. “A name I mean; for the baby.”  
   
“Hmm, oh ahh—yeah,” he mumbled. “Haven't decided on anything yet. Kind of thought it was a bit soon. Thought I might like to meet the young'un first before slapping a name onto him. What about you?”  
   
She nodded. “Hmm, if it's a girl I would like to name her after my mother. A boy? I don't know. Maybe I'll leave that to you.”  
   
“Maybe we should let Sally decide.”  
   
Miranda giggled into the pillow.  
   
“I don't think I want to take that chance,” she replied. “She might come up with 'Cookie' or 'Apple Pie'!”  
   
It was Hannibal's turn to chuckle then.  
   
“She just might at that,” he agreed. “I suppose its best if we take on the responsibility of picking the name.”  
   
“Yes.” She returned to gazing out at the night sky. “We can call her 'Starlight'.”

Heyes turned to look at his wife to see if she were actually serious or not. The bright sparkle in her eye gave him his answer.  
   
“Oh you,” he snickered as he pulled down the window blind and pulled his wife into a loving kiss.  
   
Feeling tired now, they settled back under the sheets and snuggled into each other's arms. Within minutes they both fell asleep gently rocking with the rhythmic motion of the train making its way through the diamond night.   
   
   
Not surprisingly they woke late the following morning. George had been discreet and had not bothered the honeymooners with any talk of breakfast or coffee. Mr. Heyes was paying him well to pay attention to their particular needs during their ride down to Yuma and the porter wasn't about to irritate the golden goose.  
   
Hannibal stretched and yawned mightily. He was so comfortable, he just didn't feel inclined to get up yet. This was an unusual but pleasant state for him to be in. Too often once he was awake his over-active mind would kick into full gallop and he'd be up and pacing with his morning cup of coffee. And often, before dawn. But this morning he felt comfortable and relaxed. He sighed deeply and looked over to his wife.  
   
Miranda still appeared to be asleep so he turned over and pulled up the window blind to see what kind of a day they had. He instantly closed his eyes tight against the light and pulled back. Miranda stirred and grumbled.  
   
“Oh why did you have to do that?” she complained without opening her eyes. “It's still early.”  
   
Hannibal blinked a few times and looked out into the bright summer day. The sun in the east was half way up the sky and the brilliant blue of the sky highlighted the range of the Santa Ynez Mountains. It was a beautiful day, but it certainly was not early.  
   
“It must be 10:00 at least,” he commented. “Past time we got up.”  
   
Miranda's eyes flew open and raising herself on an elbow she looked out upon the day.  
   
“Oh my! Did we really sleep that late?”  
   
“Appears so.”  
   
Miranda threw the bed clothes aside, revealing her glorious nakedness and ignoring her husband's eyes upon her, she scrambled off the bed and made her way into their private water closet.  
   
“Hey!” Hannibal complained. “Why do you get to go first?”  
   
“Because I got out of bed faster!” she stated with a cheeky grin and disappeared inside the convenience.  
   
Hannibal nodded as he accepted that bit of logic and hauled himself out of bed to get dressed.  
   
Twenty minutes later George tapped on the door to their suite and Miranda opened it to find the porter standing there looking expectant.  
   
“Good morning Missus,” he greeted her. “If you folks would care for some coffee and pastries you can find them being served in the observation car.”  
   
Hannibal smiled. George was very discreetly letting them know that he needed them out of the suite so he could get about his duties.  
   
“That would be wonderful,” Hannibal agreed.  
   
“Oh yes! Coffee!”  
   
“Yes Missus,” George encouraged their exodus. “We're along the coast line now too. Perfect view of the ocean from the west side of the car.”  
   
“Thank you,” Hannibal said and handed George a small gratuity as Miranda grabbed her husband by the arm and pulled him out the door.  
   
Turning left they made their way down towards the engine until they came to a car that was laid out differently from the others. In a way it was similar to coach seating, but there were padded seats rather than wooden benches. There were also small tables situated in between facing seats so the 'higher class' passengers could enjoy a beverage or light snack while watching the scenery roll by.  
   
The car was comfortable and airy with the large windows being opened just enough to allow the soft ocean breeze to waft through the car, keeping it fresh and cool. Upon first entering the car both Hannibal and Miranda stopped to take in the view coming to them from the west. The ocean was so close to the tracks at this particular spot that they could hear the waves rolling in upon the land. Accentuating this idyllic experience was the shrill calling of the sea birds that floated and circled above the waters in the hopes of finding something to eat.  
   
“Ah!” Hannibal took his wife's elbow and led her to a set of seats that had just opened up on the right side of the car. “Let's grab them before someone else does.”  
   
“Oh yes!”  
   
The couple moved in and got settled with Hannibal allowing his wife to have the window seat. Her eyes were sparkling and her smile voluptuous as she sat mesmerized by the oceanic display.  
   
“Oh look!” she exclaimed as she pointed out the window. “Look at those birds!”  
   
Hannibal almost did a double take.  
   
“I've never seen a bird like that,” he admitted. “Not even in San Francisco. What are they?”  
   
Miranda shrugged. “I've never seen them before either. What odd looking creatures.”  
   
A porter was quick to descend upon them and overheard their conversation.  
   
“They are pelicans Ma'am,” he informed them.  
   
“Oh.” Miranda exchanged a comical look with her husband.  
   
Hannibal shrugged. “Pelicans.”  
   
“Would you care for coffee and pastries?” The porter got on with his job. “or perhaps something stronger?”  
   
“No, coffee please,” Hannibal informed him. “This is breakfast for us.”  
   
“Of course,” the porter replied diplomatically, then scuttled to the side as another couple hurried to take over the seats opposite the Heyes'. “Oh! Well, may I get something for you as well? Coffee or something stronger?”  
   
“Yes sorry,” the young man made a flippant apology for their briskness. “Coffee I think,” he said “This is breakfast for us.”  
   
The Porter tweaked an eyebrow. “Yes of course.” He wrote down the orders and discreetly made his exit.  
   
The two couples were suddenly face to face and a slight awkwardness ensued.  
   
“Good morning,” Hannibal flashed his dimples and both young people were instantly drawn to it and returned equally energetic smiles. “It seems we were fortunate to get the last seats available.”

“Yes,” the man agreed. “We should have come down here sooner but we were...ah...”  
   
“This is our honeymoon!” the young woman spontaneously announced as she wrapped her arm around her husband's and gave him an enthusiastic squeeze.  
   
Both Hannibal and Miranda smiled and nodded affirmation.  
   
“Dearest, you shouldn't be blurting that out to complete strangers,” the husband reprimanded. “Whatever will they think of us?”  
   
The woman's sparkling smile drooped a little and Miranda was quick to come to her defense.  
   
“Oh that's alright,” she assured. “I'm doing that all the time—just ask my husband! And by the way,” and she leaned over conspiratorially, “this is our honeymoon too.”  
   
The young woman's eyes lit up again and she practically clapped her hands.  
   
“Really!?” she exclaimed. “That's marvelous! We're on our way to Santa Marta! I can hardly wait, it's going to be so romantic! I've never been this far south before and nobody I know has ever been to Mexico. Imagine my surprise when Cedric presented me with this wonderful trip—as if getting married wasn't enough of a joy but then he brings me on such an exotic vacation as this!”  
   
“Lois, please...” Cedric was obviously feeling embarrassed by his young wife's exuberance.  
   
Hannibal took the initiative and set about introducing themselves.   
   
“I'm Han,” he offered in an effort to give an honest name but not reveal too much. “This is my wife Miranda.”  
   
“Oh yes of course,” Cedric leaned forward and offered his hand. “I'm Cedric Soames and this is my wife Lois. Very pleased to meet you.”  
   
The porter arrived then and interrupted the greetings by setting down a tray laden with coffee, cream, sugar and a plate piled with enticing pastries.  
   
“Sirs and Madams, enjoy,” he told them. “If I can get you anything more, please let me know.”  
   
“Of course,” Hannibal agreed. “This will be fine for now, thank you.”  
   
The porter gave a nod and retreated.  
   
“Where are you people heading?” Cedric asked as they all settled in with coffee. “I understand there are some lovely vineyards along the route. Or are you more of a beer man?”  
   
For some reason Hannibal was beginning to feel irritated by this young man. He couldn't put his finger on it but the young man's mild snobbery was starting to annoy.  
   
“I enjoy a fine glass of wine,” he responded politely. “but we are also going to Santa Marta which has its own fine vineyards as I recall. I have a friend there with whom we will be visiting.”  
   
“You are friends with a Mexican?” Cedric practically sniffed.  
   
“Indeed,” Heyes acknowledged. “The Alcalde in that town is a very good friend.”   
   
“Alcalde?” Cedric asked. “I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that term. Is it like a waiter or a horse groom?”   
   
Heyes smiled indulgently. “No. 'Alcalde' is the title given to the mayor and in Senor Cordoba's case; Chief of Police as well.”  
   
“Oh my!” Lois exclaimed. “A man of some standing! And he is your friend. How lovely! Perhaps you can introduce us, he sounds like such an interesting person. Wouldn't that be lovely, Cedric? To meet the mayor of the town?”  
   
“Hmm,” Cedric was not impressed. “I'm sure we'll meet many colorful people while we're there.”  
   
“Oh yes! I certainly hope so!”  
   
Hannibal was becoming more and more irritated by these people while Miranda was once again fighting an attack of laughter. She took a sip of coffee to give her time to compose herself and was soon able to present a suitable smile to their companions.  
   
“I'm sure you will have a lovely time there,” Miranda predicted. “Though my husband has been there a couple of times now, this will be my first trip and I am so looking forward to it.”  
   
“Likewise!” Lois agreed. “Perhaps we can do some sightseeing together. Wouldn't that be fun?”   
   
“I'm sure they have their own agenda Lois,” her husband commented. “What have I told you about being so forward?”  
   
“Oh yes,” Lois retreated, her sparkle diminishing. “I'm sorry Cedric. I keep forgetting.”  
   
“We don't mind...” Miranda started but was instantly cut off.  
   
“I think it's time we returned to our suite anyways,” Cedric announced and stood up to offer a hand to his wife. “Come along.”  
   
“Oh,” Lois was obviously disappointed but she dutifully took her husband's hand and rose to her feet.  
   
Hannibal and Miranda rose as well and bid them good afternoon. Heyes then took the seat that Lois had vacated in the hopes of discouraging any more encounters with other passengers. The car was beginning to thin out anyway and travelers returned to their private quarters for lunch so Heyes didn't feel too guilty about taking up the space. They both sat back down with heavy sighs.  
   
“Poor dear,” Miranda finally commented. “I fear she is in for a rather subdued life.”  
   
“Well, she married him,” her husband responded cryptically.  
   
Miranda sent him an indulgent smile.  
   
“Yes,” she agreed. “I doubt it was for love though, or if it was, it's a love that she'll quickly outgrow. Oh well, perhaps she'll be fortunate and have a second chance.”  
   
Hannibal chuckled. “Are you wishing ill fortune upon her husband?”  
   
“Of course not!” Miranda denied with mock indignation. “Simply good fortune to her!”  
   
“Oh I see.”  
   
xxx  
   
The train had rolled on through San Buenaventura and was once again heading East, away from the coast line and towards Los Angeles before the Heyeses decided it was time to return to their own abode. Even with the coming of evening, the change in temperature as the train pulled away from the ocean and out into the desert was a dramatic increase and the couple looked forward to getting stripped down to bare necessities and relaxing in private.   
   
It was later in the evening when the train pulled into Los Angeles. There would be at least a two hour layover in this town as this was where the Transcontinental Railroad split. The train that the Heyeses were already on would be heading in a southeasterly direction towards Yuma while another train awaiting their arrival would continue on along the coast to San Diego.  
   
Most of the passengers who were not transferring to the other train preferred to simply stay on board and relax rather than walk around the streets of a strange city after dark. If he had been on his own or with the Kid, Heyes probably would have enjoyed disembarking and taking time to sample the local nightlife, but not with his wife. All the proper shopswere closed anyway which left only the saloons and dance halls open for business and it would be totally inappropriate for a married couple to enter either.  
   
They sat comfortably in their roomette, keeping the window and the blind partially open to allow the warm breeze to alleviate the stuffiness but still award them some privacy from the activity out on the platform. Sipping their evening tea they spent their time eavesdropping on the outside conversations and finding humor in just about everything that went on beyond the comfort of their nest.  
   
The two hours spent in this fashion went by quickly and with the train sounding its whistle they were soon once again on the move. Everything quieted down as new passengers got settled in their appropriate places and before too much longer, a discreet knock on their door informed them that the porter was ready to turn down their bed.  
   
   
The following morning the Heyeses awoke at a more reasonable hour and again took coffee down in the observation car while their porter prepared their room for the day. The change in the temperature as they got further away from the ocean was very noticeable now while they chugged through the San Bernardino Valley. Though not as spectacular as the rugged coastline and rolling waves of the Pacific Ocean, the landscape here offered its own kind of beauty.  
   
Streams coming down from the San Bernardino Mountains were often plentiful enough to support waterways and cause lakes to form and survive even during the hottest months of the summer. Orange groves were in abundance along with avocado orchards and the never ending grape vineyards. It was like an oasis in the middle of the desert and despite the hot dry breeze coming in through the windows, the Heyeses hoped the train would stop long enough for them to disembark and sample some of the wares.

It did stop briefly in Redland to pick up a passenger but was quick to get on the roll again and it was with some disappointment that the honeymooners watched that town slide away from them just as so many others had done. Just as they had given up hope of having a chance for a stretch of the legs, George came by to announce that they would be stopping for two hours in Indio to take on passengers and water and to replenish food supplies. Those who wished to walk around the town could do so as long as they were back on board fifteen minutes before departure time.

It was late afternoon by the time Miranda and Hannibal stepped off the train and took in deep, replenishing breaths of fresh air. It was still very warm, but the breeze helped to cool things off a tad, and it felt so refreshing to get away from the stuffiness of their roomette.  
   
“Oh my, what a lovely little town,” Miranda exclaimed as they walked arm in arm along the boardwalk. “It feels so good just to get off that train for a while and see some sights.”  
   
“Yes,” Hannibal agreed wholeheartedly. “but be thankful it's cooling off towards evening, and it's late in the summer. This area can get incredibly hot in August.”  
   
“It's just perfect now,” Randa observed. “Oh look! There's an open market. Let's see what we can find.”  
   
And with that she took her husband's hand and hurried him along towards colorful displays of fresh produce and flowers. Heyes laughed at her enthusiasm and picked up the pace in order to keep in step. Soon they were in the midst of the many stalls with the merchants all waving and calling them over to entice them with their wares. English and Spanish vied with one another as the dominant language and further down the line a heavy sprinkling of Chinese added to the flavor.  
   
“Look at all this fruit!” Randa gushed. “I wished I'd brought a basket with me, I want to buy so much.”  
   
“It's a good thing we didn't,” Hannibal was being forever practical. “It won't last so there's no point in buying more than we can eat tonight and perhaps tomorrow. Hopefully by tomorrow evening we'll be in Yuma.”  
   
It was as if Miranda barely heard him. With an exclamation of delight she ran forward to pick up the large round fruit which had caught her eye.  
   
“Look at these oranges!” she said, “I can't remember the last time I had a fresh orange.”  
   
“Si Senora,” the vender pushed his wares. “Buy some! Very fresh—sweet and juicy. I pick out some of the best ones for you.”  
   
“Oh yes please!” Randa was nearly jumping up and down in her excitement. “Four would do nicely.”  
   
“Four?” Heyes asked, his brow going up.  
   
“We'll eat them Hannibal,” his wife assured him with a pat on the arm. “Just wait until you taste these.”  
   
“Here you are, Senora,” the vender held up two oranges in each hand. “four of my very best oranges. You will like them.”  
   
“Oh, but how shall I carry them?” Randa lamented. “I told you I should have brought a basket with me.”   
   
“I can sell you a basket Senora,” the vender was most helpful to offer. “Ten cents.”  
   
“Ten cents for a basket?” Heyes was astonished. “Seems a bit much.”  
   
“No, no Senor,” the vender insisted. “My esposa makes them all by hand. Much work. Takes lots of time.”  
   
“Your wife makes these? They're beautiful,” Randa admired the weaving of the baskets on display. “The colors are lovely, just like the desert.” She smiled over at her husband and Heyes gave in. “I'll take this one,” she announced as she picked up the one of her choice. “How much for the oranges?”  
   
“One cent apiece.”  
   
“Alright,” Miranda opened her change purse and began to count out the coins.  
   
“What are you doing?” Heyes asked her as he reached into the inside breast pocket of his light shirt. “I'll pay for it. Fourteen cents then. Here you go.”  
   
The vender gladly accepted the payment and went back to his sales pitch. Heyes took the basket in one arm and offered his other to his wife.  
   
“You didn't have to pay for them,” she said as they continued to walk. “It was my idea.”  
   
“I know,” Hannibal assured her. “I tell you what; you can pay for the next one.” Then he frowned as his eyes lighted on an item of produce that he had never seen before. He picked up one of the dark green, almost pear-shaped morsels and frowned. “What is this?” 

Miranda couldn't help giggling at his consternation. The skin of it was hard and bumpy and Heyes couldn't fathom how one was suppose to eat it.  
   
“That's an avocado,” Miranda informed him. “We've been passing groves of them for two days now. They're very good, especially in salads. But you can eat them as they are or with a little bit of lemon juice and pepper.”  
   
“How?” he asked as he gave the item a thorough inspection.  
   
“Generally you cut them in quarters,” she explained. “There's a big seed inside so you have to pull the meat of it off that and then peel the skin off. I'm surprised you don't know about these. If you and Jed have been down this way before you should have come across them. They grow all over California and even into Mexico. They also make a very nice sauce called guacamole that people use for...”  
   
“Oh! Guacamole,” Heyes was enlightened. “Yeah sure. Kid and I have had that plenty of times. Big Mac's wife makes guacamole that puts the taverna stuff to shame. Maybe she'll make some for us when we're there. Hmm,” he gave the avocado a more respectful look. “I always thought it was just called 'guacamole'.”   
   
“Well it is,” Miranda smiled at him. “but it's made from avocados.”  
   
Heyes gave her a look. “Hmm. Fine. Alright. Two avocados.”  
   
“Yes sir,” the young man behind the tables was quick to respond. “These two will do...”  
   
“Oh no!” Miranda cut him off. “Those aren't ripe yet. Let me see...this one and...this one.” She smiled at the vender as she placed her choices into their basket. “Do you have any lemons?”  
   
“Yes ma'am. They are around the other side.”  
   
Miranda walked around the stall with both men following her until they came upon a slat covered in the small yellow fruit. She smiled and carefully picked out two ripe lemons which she then added to the rapidly filling basket.  
   
“How much?” she asked the vender as she opened up her change purse.  
   
“Oh ah,” the young man glanced uneasily at the gentleman and seemed unsure about accepting payment from the lady when she was obviously being escorted. Heyes simply smiled at him so the lad returned his attention to the lady. “Two cents each for the avocados and two lemons for a penny.”  
   
“Fine,” Miranda smiled and she handed over the payment.  
   
Pleased with her purchases, she took her husband's arm and the couple walked off.  
   
“Are you happy now?” Hannibal asked her.  
   
“Yes!”  
   
“Are we done shopping?”  
   
“Yes. I believe so.”  
   
“Good! Now all we have to do is eat them.”  
   
The couple casually carried on their way back towards the train depot. They weren't in any hurry yet, but they knew the train would be ready to leave soon and they didn't want to be caught flat footed. They laughed and chatted casually with one another until Hannibal suddenly took his wife's elbow and steered her into the nearest door.  
   
“What?” she asked. “What's the matter.”  
   
“It's that couple from the train,” Hannibal informed her. “The Soameses.”  
   
“Oh!” Miranda was suddenly alarmed.  
   
They stepped deeper into the store in the hopes they would not be noticed and to their great relief, they were not.  
   
“Oh dear,” Miranda commented. “This is so silly. She is such a dear, but that husband of hers. I dread taking the stage with them down to Santa Marta.”  
   
“Yeah,” Heyes grumbled. “Not sure how we'll get out of that one.”  
   
“Oh look!” Miranda exclaimed as she held up a paperback book. “'Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry and the Shootout at Castle Rock'.”  
   
“What!?”  
   
Hannibal glanced at the book his wife was holding, then he took a quick reconnaissance of the store they were in. It wasn't really much different from any other mercantile store he'd been in, but as luck would have it, their flight from the Soameses had put them right in line with a shelf full of dime novels. Heyes took the book from his wife's hands and flipped it over.  
   
“'Will Heyes and Curry meet their maker at Castle Rock?'', Heyes read. “The sheriff's posse has them trapped and it doesn't look good'. Oh brother.”  
   
Miranda giggled. “What? I hear it's very exciting reading.”  
   
“Hmm.” Heyes looked around at the books in the adjoining bin and picked up another one. “'The End of the Hole'.,” he read again, and again, flipped the book over. “'Is this the end of Devil's Hole? Our hero...' Our hero!?” Heyes repeated with disgust, then he sighed and carried on reading. “'Our hero Sheriff Morrison has sworn to rid the territory of those cowardly outlaws. But will it cost him his life?'  
   
Miranda patted his arm in mock sympathy as her husband glanced around at the other books on the shelf and then came back to the bin in front of him. He noticed a sign tacked to the post that indicated the bin of books beneath it. 'Dime novels' was printed on the sign, but this advertisement had been crossed off and a new title was added. 'Discount bin, five cents'.  
   
“Discount bin?” Heyes felt insulted.  
   
“May I be of service?” came the polite inquiry from behind them.  
   
The couple turned to see the small, partially bald clerk smiling his servitude as he glanced towards the book bin.  
   
“Looking for some reading material?” he asked hopefully.  
   
“These books,” Heyes asked. “they're on discount?”  
   
The clerk looked at the book Heyes was holding up and he smiled ignominiously.  
   
“Ah yes,” he declared. “I'm afraid Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry are old news now. Stories of the Devil's Hole Gang just don't sell anymore.” he stepped forward and pulled another book from the shelf, “Now, these might be of more interest. The Dalton Gang, Black Jack Christian, Soapy Smith. These are what's selling now. I fear I'll be using the Devil's Hole novels as fuel for the fire before too much longer. Would you care to purchase one of these? The Dalton Gang series is doing very well.”  
   
“No I don't want to purchase one of those!” Heyes snarked. “I'll buy whatever you have on Heyes and Curry and the Devil's Hole!”  
   
The clerks eyes lit up in surprise.  
   
“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Well of course! I believe I have ten left of those, ah let me see. Ten at five cents a copy ah...”  
   
“Fifty cents!” Heyes informed him.  
   
“Yes quite right.” The clerk gathered together his collection of discount books wishing he had left them at the regular price. How was he to know that a sucker was going to walk into his store? “Would you like a bag sir?”  
   
“No,” Heyes informed him as he handed over the payment. “We'll just put them in our basket.”  
   
“Yes of course.”  
   
The couple walked back out onto the boardwalk with their basket full of treasures and Miranda could not hold her laughter back any longer.  
   
“What?” Heyes asked her.  
   
“You were like a little school boy in there,” she teased him. “Are you actually going to read those?”  
   
“No,” Heyes answered sheepishly.  
   
Miranda laughed even louder.  
   
“You quibble over ten cents for a hand made basket, but you spend fifty cents on a pile of books you'll probably never read!”  
   
“I'm saving them for our children,” Heyes quickly covered.  
   
“Really!” Miranda sounded skeptical. “Just to be sure they get the facts?”  
   
“Yeah!”  
   
Miranda's laughter was drowned out by the three loud whistles indicating the train was due to pull out soon.  
   
Xxx  
   
   
Yuma, Arizona was stifling hot. Disembarking from the train was like stepping out of the oven and into the furnace. Miranda was finding that her layers of appropriate clothing, even though the required 'summer weight' were proving to be most uncomfortable and she wanted nothing more than to get to the hotel room and into a nice refreshing bath. Hannibal could not have agreed more.  
   
He made arrangements for their luggage to be transported to the Yuma Hotel which was conveniently close to the train depot and then got in line to make arrangements for seats on the coach leaving for Santa Marta the next day. The only couple ahead of them were the Soameses and though Heyes inwardly groan, he did his best to put on a happy countenance.   
   
“Oh hello!” Lois greeted them, looking bright and fresh despite the heat. “I thought we'd lost you. You seemed to vanish off the train altogether.”  
   
“Oh no, we were there,” Miranda assured her. “we must have just kept missing one another.”  
   
“Yes of course,” Lois agreed. “Well we won't be missing one another on the coach will we? It would seem we are the only ones going down to Santa Marta.”  
   
“Yes it would seem so,” Miranda agreed. “I'm sure we'll have plenty of opportunity to get better acquainted on the journey.”  
   
“I'm sure we...”  
   
“Come along Lois!” her husband interrupted. “I'm sure they have better things to do than to listen to you prattle on.”  
   
“Oh yes, coming Cedric!”  
   
Miranda shook her head as the young couple moved away and Hannibal stepped up to the counter.  
   
“Yessir?” asked the clerk.  
   
“Two tickets for the stage to Santa Marta,” Heyes informed him.  
   
“Of course sir. Your names please.”  
   
Hannibal felt the usual quiet knot in his gut whenever he was asked that question and again he gave the closest thing he could to the truth without actually lying.  
   
“Han and Miranda Heyes.”  
   
The clerk nodded and wrote the names down.

“Home town?” he asked.

“Why would you need to know that?” Heyes asked, feeling oddly threatened.

“We have found from past experience that its best to have some form of contact information on citizens travelling into Mexico,” the clerk explained patiently. “Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“Injury, death—disappearance.”

“Oh.” That did actually make sense. “Brookswood, Colorado.”

The clerk jotted down the name.  
   
“That will be two fifty apiece.”  
   
Hannibal smiled with mild relief and handed over the payment.  
   
“Very good sir,” the clerk informed him. “Stage will leave at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Have a pleasant trip.”  
   
“Thank you.”  
   
Heyes turned back to his wife and she took his arm and gave it a gentle pat.  
   
“That wasn't so hard now was it?” she asked him.  
   
“No,” Heyes admitted. “I guess not.”  
   
xxx  
   
An hour later the Heyeses were comfortably settled into their hotel room and the ordered bath had quickly been brought up for their convenience. Truth was, the hotel was well aware of the state of passengers coming in on the train and they were well prepared in advance to have baths ready for the hot and weary travellers.  
   
It hardly took any time at all for Hannibal and Miranda to peel off their sweaty clothing and submerge themselves into the refreshing liquid. Miranda smiled and sighed contentedly as she leaned back against her husband and he wrapped his arms around her. They lay together like that for some time, enjoying the cool water and the feel of their bodies pressing against one another.  
   
Eventually Hannibal picked up the bar of soap on the stand beside the tub and slowly began to rub it along Miranda's arms. Then he rubbed the bar briskly between his hands to work up a lather and caressed his hands over her breasts then down her torso and around her tummy. He soaped up his hands again and tried to reach her legs but he couldn't quite make it so he returned to the areas that he could reach.  
   
Miranda preened with a pampering. It felt so nice to feel his masculine hands washing away all the sweat and grime left behind from hours of train travel. She smiled and purred as she settled back against his chest and his soapy hands embraced her and settled back onto her tummy. She sighed contentedly and brought her own hands up to caress his.  
   
“Have I told you recently, how much I love you?” she asked him.  
   
“Yes,” he whispered in her ear. “but I don't mind you telling me again.”  
   
“I love the feel of you pressing against me,” Miranda breathed. “You feel so good.”  
   
Hannibal brought his right arm up and encircled her waist, pulling her even closer into him but his left hand stayed on her tummy and he gently caressed the growing contours of her pregnancy. He nuzzled into her neck and his breath in her ear made her giggle. He smiled and kissed her.  
   
“You're bigger,” he stated. “Your belly is rounding out more and more, every day.”  
   
“You certainly know how to flatter a lady,” Randa teased him. “We all want to hear how much fatter we're getting with each passing moment.”  
   
Hannibal smiled, continuing to caress her with his soapy hands.  
   
“Not fatter,” he insisted. “Better, sexier. I love how you feel. I love how our baby is growing. I can see it, I can feel it. You're beautiful.”  
   
Miranda preened some more. She settled in further against his chest, listening to his heart beating and she felt loved and contented.  
   
They soaked together for some time. Eyes closed and their breathing settling into a rhythmic pattern that wasn't quite sleeping, but wasn't fully awake either. They were relaxed and basking in the simple pleasure of holding one another. Until Hannibal's stomach growled.  
   
Miranda giggled.   
   
“Ready for dinner?” she asked quietly.  
   
“Hmm. I can wait.” His stomach growled again. “Honestly, I'm quite content right here.”  
   
Silence settled in upon them and they nestled in together a few more minutes. Then it was Miranda's turn to announce hunger pangs.  
   
“Oh dear,” she grumbled. “I wasn't hungry at all until you brought it up.”  
   
“I didn't bring it up,” Hannibal insisted. “It's my stomach that's complaining and I'm choosing to ignore it.”  
   
“Well,” Miranda began to stir and placing her hands strategically on the bottom of the tub, she lifted herself up and out of the water. “I'm afraid I can't ignore it any longer. I'm hungry.”  
   
“Spoilsport,” Heyes mumbled, then smiled at the sight of Miranda's dripping wet posterior staring him in the face.  
   
She grabbed one of the towels and wrapping it around herself, she daintily stepped out of the tub.  
   
“What are you smiling at?” she asked him.  
   
“Nothing.”  
   
“Uh huh,” she grinned and threw the second towel at him.  
   
He snatched it out of mid-air and proceeded to exit the tub and dry himself off.  
   
   
Half an hour later, a well scrubbed and refreshed looking couple made their way into the hotel restaurant. They stopped at the entrance, looking around for an empty table but not finding any. It seemed that everyone from the train head beaten them to the punch when it came suppertime.

“Oh dear,” Randa commented. “There's Lois waving at us.”  
   
“Hmm,” Hannibal grumbled. “I really don't want to sit with them.”  
   
“I don't see any way out of it,” Randa observed. “She is inviting us and there is nowhere else to sit. It would be rude to refuse.”  
   
“Well...”  
   
Randa smiled and waved back. Taking the lead she ushered herself and her husband over to the young couple's table. Heyes put on his most engaging smile.  
   
“Good evening,” he greeted them as they approached the table. “Seems we're a little late getting down here for supper.”

Cedric stood up and offered his hand.  
   
“Indeed,” he agreed as they shook. “Please join us. Hopefully Lois won't embarrass herself this time.”  
   
“Your lovely wife has yet to embarrass herself,” Miranda countered and she smiled down at the young woman across from her. “In fact, I recognize in her a kindred spirit.”  
   
Lois beamed with pleasure as the others settled in around the table.  
   
“Is that a fact?” Cedric responded, then he winked across at Heyes. “You must have your hands full.”  
   
Hannibal smiled over at his wife.  
   
“Not at all,” he said. “I love her exuberance.”  
   
Miranda smiled coyishly back at him and they squeezed hands under the table.  
   
“Well,” Cedric coughed into his hand. “You must give me some tips on how to manage it.”   
   
Heyes' smile slipped for an instant but whatever retort he was going to send the young man, was cut off by the arrival of the waiter with the menus.  
   
“Good evening,” he greeted his guests. “Would anyone care for drinks while you browse the menu?”  
   
“I'll have a red wine,” Hannibal informed him and then cocked a brow at his wife. “White for you?”  
   
“Yes,” Randa agreed. “A very light white if you have it.”  
   
“Yes ma'am.” He glanced over to the second couple.  
   
“Oh dear,” Lois was almost blushing with embarrassment. “I've never had wine before. May I try some Cedric?”  
   
Cedric gave a long suffering sigh. “If you wish Lois, so long as it doesn't make you even sillier.”  
   
“Oh.”  
   
Miranda reached across the table and took her hand.  
   
“Try the light white,” she suggested. “It's not as heavy as the red and one glass is not likely to cause any ill effects. I'm only going to have one. We'll have them together.”  
   
Lois smiled and giggled with the excitement of this new adventure.  
   
“Yes I will!” she declared and looked to the waiter. “One glass of white wine please.”  
   
“Of course ma'am. And for you sir?”  
   
“I'll have a whiskey,” Cedric announced.  
   
The drinks soon arrived and dinner was ordered.  
   
Lois took her first sip of wine and her brows went up in surprise.  
   
“My,” she said. “I'm not sure what to think of that. It's almost like juice but with more zing to it.”  
   
“Yes dear,” Cedric commented. “That's why it's alcohol.”  
   
“Yes of course. I just meant...”  
   
“So how did you and your husband meet?” Miranda asked, hoping to change the subject.  
   
“Oh!” Lois smiled. “Our parents are in business together in Washington. It's a whole new frontier up there and full of business opportunities. Our families have the biggest lumber mill west of California.”  
   
“Oh,” Heyes nodded. “I had a friend who used to work the lumber camps up that way. Before your time though, during the Civil War.” 

“Really?” Lois exclaimed. “Well, he must have been somewhat older that you. Were you even alive during the Civil War?”  
   
Heyes smiled. “Yes but I was just a child. And you're right; he was much older than me.”  
   
“So your families knew one another then?” Randa continued. “Were you childhood sweethearts?”  
   
Cedric snorted and Lois laughed out loud.  
   
“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “I was actually born in New York and my family didn't move west until I was an older child. When I first met Cedric, he was such a mean little boy! I wanted nothing to do with him.” She smiled fondly over at her husband. “But fortunately our parents knew better. They knew it would be a good match and they arranged the whole thing.” 

 Heyes glanced at Cedric and took note of the hard look and tight lip that suggested that the marriage had certainly not been one of his choosing. Lois seemed oblivious to it and chatted on about what a fine match they now made.  
   
Finally Lois came up for breath just in time for their meals to arrive. Cedric ordered himself another whiskey.  
   
“How about you and Han?” Lois asked after her first bite. “You seem awfully old to be on your honeymoon—ouch! Cedric!”   
   
“You're being rude again.”  
   
“Oh.”  
   
“No, that's alright,” Miranda insisted as she tried to hide her scathing look to the young man. “Actually this is my second marriage. My first husband passed away some years ago. But I was very fortunate to have found love again.”  
   
“Fortunate for both of us,” Hannibal agreed.   
   
“Yes it was,” Miranda conceded and gave her husband's hand a squeeze. “Just goes to show; you never know.”  
   
“Hmm,” Hannibal nodded emphatically as he took his dug into his steak. “I certainly wasn't expecting that.”    
   
“How romantic!” Lois exclaimed. “You just bumped into each other and fell in love! How wonderful is that!”  
   
Hannibal and Miranda exchanged a quick look, neither one of them wanting to go into the details of their rocky romance. Then Heyes frowned slightly as he became aware of an individual entering the restaurant and pausing to look around at the many guests. This in itself should not have set off alarms but the man's attire did not fit the occasion and there was something about his presence that caused the hair on Heyes' neck to prickle.

Their eyes met from across the room and the man turned to walk towards them. Heyes felt his heart skip a beat when he noticed the badge pinned to the approaching vest and he found himself fighting the impulse to get up and run. 

He had to stop thinking this way. He was a free man now and hadn't done anything to warrant serious attention from the law. Perhaps it wasn't just him the lawman was approaching. Perhaps it was the whole table. After all they were the only Americans to be heading south into Mexico and it may be standard policy to do a check up.

Unfortunately the lawman did not s top at the table, he stopped directly beside Heyes and the ex-outlaw felt the prickle on his neck travel down the length of his spine. His three companions finally became aware of their visitor and were all looking up at him with slightly concerned expressions. Heyes glanced up and his eyes again lit upon a badge. He directed his glance higher and found himself looking into a pair of dark brown eyes that were looking down into his.  
   
“Mr. Heyes?”  
   
“Yes.” A shiver joined the prickling. He felt Miranda's hand tighten on his.  
   
“Sheriff wants to see ya', over at his office.”  
   
“Right now?” Heyes asked trying to bide for time. Of course the sheriff wanted to see him right now. “We're just finishing up supper.”  
   
“Hmm mmm,” the deputy nodded. “Right now. Shouldn't take too long.”  
   
“Oh well...”  
   
“Hannibal...” Miranda's whisper was filled with concern.  
   
Heyes smiled at her and patted her hand.  
   
“It'll be alright,” he assured her. “I'm sure it's nothing serious. I'll be right back.”  
   
“I'll come with you.”  
   
“No ma'am.” The deputy nipped it in the bud. “Sheriff wants to see 'em alone.”  
   
“But...”  
   
“It'll be alright,” Hannibal assured her again. “Just wait here. I won't be long.”  
   
He pushed his chair out and smiling over at their dinner companions tried to ignore their shocked expressions staring back at him.  
   
“Sorry folks,” he said to them. “I'll get back as quickly as I can. What's a fine dinner without a good cup of coffee at the end of it?”  
   
He sent one more reassuring look to his wife and then turned to follow the deputy out of the restaurant.  
   
“Oh dear,” Miranda whispered to herself. She turned back to meet the inquiring gazes from her two companions. “I'm sure it's nothing,” she insisted as she put on a brave smile. “He'll rejoin us soon.”  
   
 

To Be Continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical note; Avocados weren't actually grown commercially in California until the early 1900's.  Using a little bit of creative license here.


	5. Obstacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Problems arise with both our hero's as they find their efforts blocked by unforeseen circumstances.

Obstacles

 

The smoke was becoming impossible to deal with. Men were dropping to their knees, bodies convulsed in spasms of coughing and retching that would not let up. Eyes were burning with an itch that couldn't be scratched and nothing was left in the tear ducts to give relief from the searing heat. The fire was so close to the creek now that flames could regularly be seen flickering out from their smoky camouflage. Flickering out and stretching, seeking their next stepping stone, their next green bridge that would feed their voice and stoke their heat.

They could hear it constantly now, crackling and popping and even roaring when fresh fodder was consumed and the flames rushed up to engulf the helpless foliage. Even the wetted bandanas were doing little to help protect parched throats from the dry smoky heat and Jed knew it was time to get out. Past time actually. They should have left when Jesse did.

He reached out a hand to get Kenny's attention.

“Let it go!” he yelled in Kenny's ear. “We have to leave!”

Kenny nodded and gave a thumbs up. Both men began walking down the line, tapping fellas on the shoulders to get their attention and wave them towards the main camp. No one argued. No one misunderstood. It was the order they had been hoping for, waiting for and when it finally came everyone was quick to follow it.

Back in camp the smoke was a little less dense and the men were quickly able to get themselves organized. Everyone dunked heads into the water barrels as soon as they reached them. Jed busied himself with wetting down the burlap sacks yet again and re-attaching them to the horses' bridles as the men hauled themselves and their equipment up into the wagons. Fortunately most of the injured had already left with the previous wagon load so most of the men could look after themselves.

The horses stamped and snorted and were eager to get moving. They didn't want to be here any longer either and once they got the idea that it was time to head back, they fought and reared against the lines and brakes in an effort to leave this suffocating place. Despite the weight of the men and the equipment in the wagon, one of the draft teams were so desperate they even managed to drag the wheels into moving the wagon, causing the brakes to squeak and ruts to dig into the dirt.

The last of the men, seeing that their ride was trying to leave early, grabbed hold of anything within reach and hauled themselves into the moving wagon. Emmett, who along with his younger brother had been recruited by Joe to at least help out by driving, was sitting on the seat of that freight wagon. He snarled and cursed at the horses for being useless hay burners while he struggled to keep them under control. Looking back long enough to see that all the men he could take were finally aboard, he released the brakes and the buckboard plunged ahead as the team were finally given a free rein.

Yells and curses were aimed at Emmett for being a knuckleheaded s.o.b. at the sudden and extremely rough start. Men were jostled about the wagon, banging into each other and the side boards with a couple of young fellas nearly being bounced out of the flat bed altogether. Fortunately no one got lost and they quickly got themselves secured and hanging on for what was proving to be a very bumpy ride.

Sitting in the back with the rest of the men, Jed watched the sky behind them hoping that he wouldn't see the flames making headway. Hoping that their firebreak would hold. Hoping that all their hard work would not be in vain. If the fire jumped the creek, not only would his place and the Jordan's be at risk but so would numerous other ranches and farms as well as the town itself.

Nobody spoke on that ride back towards town. They barely even looked at one another they were so tired and it was all they could do to remain sitting upright in the jostling, rattling wagon. Recognizing one another was almost impossible as they still kept their wet bandanas covering their faces. All that could be seen was a line of heads with hats, hair and skin that were all the same sooty black. Red rimmed eyes that fought to stay open against the burning looked like haunted shadows of the spark that once lived there. Coughing was the only sound above the rattle and clanking of the wagons and harness and the desperate thumping of heavy hooves hurrying to escape the heat.

It was therefore with some surprise that Jed heard their driver apply the brakes and begin to work the team back down from their hand gallop. Many heads looked up and glanced around to see what was going on. Why in the world would they be stopping? Jed vaguely noticed the two other wagons of their caravan were also fighting to slow down.

He glanced at Kenny then turned around and looked ahead. 

“What's goin on?” Harry asked. “What could be worth stopping for out here?”

“There's a couple of wagons up ahead,” Jed informed them all. “Looks like one of them is down with a broken wheel.”

Groans answered this declaration. Nobody wanted to have to deal with any problems now, but the wagon was pulled to a halt anyway and the brakes fully applied.

Jed sighed but forced himself to get to his feet and climb down to the ground anyway. Emmett wrapped the lines around the brakes and jumped down as well to join Jed as he walked over to the damaged vehicle. The younger Baird brother, Seth was sitting on the intact wagon and showed no intentions of getting down to help out. Exhausted men from the damaged wagon were slumped on the ground, too tired or injured themselves to help much while Eric and Deke were eyeing the offending wheel, still hoping it could be fixed..

“Don't look so good,” Emmett commented sagely.

Eric sent that worthless hunk of a human being a scathing look. Bad enough he had to trust his good teams and freight wagons to the Baird brothers but to have to sit there and listen to his rhetorical comments was insult to injury.

“Ya think?” he grumbled sarcastically. 

“How long have you been waiting here?” Jed asked as he glanced over at the injured men sitting on the ground. '

A couple a' hours,” Eric admitted. “Dang wheel broke in two. Nothin' ta' do but wait.” he jerked his chin towards Seth's wagon. “Them fellas jest got here but we was gonna be hard done by ta' get everyone from my load inta' that wagon. Now that yer here though, we oughta be able ta get everybody sorted.”

“Well,” Emmett mumbled skeptically as he looked back at their three wagons. “I don't know if'n we can make room.”

“You're gonna have ta' make room,” Jed told him. “Let's get to it. Times wastin'.”

“I'll get my team unhitched and tie 'em to the back 'a one of them other wagons.” Eric stated and sent Emmett a look, just daring him to contradict. Emmett at least had enough sense to keep his mouth shut.

The men sitting on the ground all groaned as they hauled themselves to their feet. Kenny took over at the wagons and herded and cajoled the reluctant passengers to move over to make room for the extra crew. The men reluctantly complied and shuffled themselves around to allow more room. It wasn't that they didn't care about their fellows but the very idea of having to move once they were settled was a hard one to accept. Muscles complained and rasping, coughing voices let it be known.

“Hey'a Kid,” came a voice that Jed hardly recognized.

“Kyle—jeez Kyle, what happened?”

Kyle and Ames both stood up to greet their boss. Kyle was beginning to look fatigued with the pain his hands were causing him. Wrapping them in light gauze hadn't helped any either. Yet, the ever optimistic little outlaw put on a game face and mustered up a toothy grin.

“Aww shoot Kid, it ain't nothin',” Kyle insisted. “Jest a little fire got started from the dynamite. We put it out, didn't we Ames?”

“Yeah,” Ames grinned. “We put it out alright. Lively little thing it was—kind'a a shame not ta' let it grow up.”

“Uh huh.” Jed saw no point in contradicting him. Ames was always going to have a different point of view in these matters. “You alright Ames?”

“Sure,” and his red rimmed eyes danced. “Fire knows when ya' like it. It don't hurt me.”

“Yeah, I'm sure it won't,” Jed answered caustically just as Deke started coughing and then retching with the gray phlegm that he ended up spitting into the dirt. “Jeez,” Jed mumbled. “Deke don't sound too good. Is he alright?”

“He weren't injured none, but he was feelin' the smoke.” Kyle assured him. “Them older fellas should'a jist stayed outa this.”

Jed nodded then he tensed as Kyle's nonchalant comment struck home. He searched around at the men who were getting themselves over to the three intact wagons and a look of extreme concern crossed his features.

“What's the matter Kid?” Kyle asked him. “You don't need ta' worry about Deke none. He'll be okay.”

“Kyle, where's Jesse?”

A blank look passed through the grime and soot.

“Hell, I donno. Ain't he with you?”

Jed turned his back on Kyle and Ames and went over to the team of horses.

“Sam! Where's Jesse?”

Sam stopped unhitching the team and his whole body tensed.

“He went back to you fellas about half an hour before we pulled out,” Sam told him. “Is he not with you?”

“No!”

Sam walked away from the horses and stood by Jed.

“Are you sure?” he asked hopefully. “I mean, with all the smoke and confusion...maybe you just didn't see him.”

“Sam! He's not with us!”

Both men looked at each other for a second, then turned their gazes back towards the gray billowing cloud that engulfed the landscape along the creek line.

Kenny noticed the body language of the two men and came over to join in the discussion.

“What is it?” he asked. “What's wrong?”

“Jesse's missing,” Jed stated bluntly.

“Shit!” Kenny surprised even himself with that comment, not normally being a cursing man.

“I'm goin' back,” Jed announced.

“I'll come with you,” Sam offered.

“No,” Jed told him. “Jesse left you in charge. You gotta make sure everyone gets back to town safely.”

“He left you in charge of your crew as well,” Sam argued. “Besides that he's my boss and I'm younger than you are!”

“And he's my father-in-law!” Jed croaked out and started to cough then swallowed and got his breath back. “How am I supposed to go back and face my wife and her ma and tell them I didn't even try?”

“All the more reason why you shouldn't be goin'!” Sam insisted. “If anything has happened to Jesse, that family is gonna need you!”

Jed struck with the speed of a rattler, grabbing Sam by his shirt and pushing him into the side of the wagon.

“Nothin's gonna happen to him!” Jed declared angrily. “We're only wasting time arguin' about this. I'm goin' back and that's all there is to it!”

Sam tried not to let fear rule the day as those cold blue eyes glared into him. He braced himself against the wagon and stood up straighter, looking steadily at the other man and not backing down.

“You can't go alone,” Sam reasoned. “I'll come with you.”

“Jesse left you in charge of these men. Deke can't do it,” Jed countered as he came off his anger and released Sam from his grip. “Besides, you got yer own family to worry about.”

“I'll come with you,” Kenny said and without waiting for agreement he turned and ran back to the wagons.

“But...” Sam wasn't will to give it up yet. “Reece has got family too...and he's older than you....”

Jed started to come at Sam again and this time the younger man did back off.

“You're crazy,” Sam mumbled after he returned to help unharness the team. “You won't make it. I'd have a much better chance and you know it.”

Eric stomped over to the unhitched team and joined in on the argument.

“You ain't takin' my horses back into that!” he told them. “I won't let ya!”

“You got no choice,” Jed snapped at him. “I'm goin' back and I'm takin' these horses with me. Write up a complaint to Sheriff Jacobs if'n ya' don't like it!”

“Yer crazy!” Eric seconded Sam's opinion.

“I'm not leavin' my father-in-law back there to burn ta' death!”

“An' if that fire jumps the break, you'll both burn ta' death!” came the retort. “Along with my horses!”

“Okay let's go,” said Kenny as he ran up to them. He had an axe, a shovel, two long coils of rope a couple of blankets and as many water canteens as he could muster.

Jed pulled the two horses out of their traces and jumped up on one of them. Kenny handed him the shovel along with half of the remaining supplies and the rest he dumped onto Sam to hold while he also jumped up onto the other horse. He quickly settled and retrieved the supplies from Sam. Sam himself was feeling overwhelmed and left out but the two elder men had taken control and all he could do at this point was comply.

“What are you fellas doin'?” Harry asked them as he came running over. Even he had noticed the little drama being played out. “You ain't goin' back there, are ya'?”

“Jesse's missing, Harry,” Jed told him. “We're goin' back.”

“Oh now Kid, c'mon. You can't go back in there. The fire'll get ya' if the smoke don't.”

Jed ignored him, and turning the reluctant horse around, he booted the animal back towards the smoke. The horse didn't want to go but Jed slapped him with the head of the shovel and the animal jumped forward and did as he was told.

Kenny's horse fought with his rider to be able to join up with his departing buddy, but Kenny held him back with one more instruction. “As soon as you get back into town you get them to send another wagon out here!” he told both Sam and Harry. “When we find Jesse we'll come back out this way and meet up with you.”

“But what if you don't find him?” Harry asked, trying to sound reasonable. “And what if that fire blocks anyone from gettin' back?” 

“Then I guess it won't matter much will it?”

And with that, Kenny allowed his anxious horse to take off and gallop after his team mate, even though he was galloping back into no man's land.

Xxx

Jesse followed the creek, heading east to meet up with Jed's work crew. It was taking longer than he thought it would as he had forgotten how rugged some of this stretch could be and trying to negotiate it in the worsening visibility was proving difficult. He wasn't feeling too worried about it yet as he knew where he was and where he was going and as long as he kept the creek to his right he wouldn't get lost. 

But as time went on and the trek continued to take longer than he had anticipated, he did feel the beginnings of anxiety settling over him. The heat from the approaching fire was so strong that he could feel his exposed skin burning and the hair on the backs of his hands singing away. He could see the flames on the top of the ridge just above the creek and could feel that it was far too close for comfort now. He knew that the downward slope would slow the fire as it approached the creek and he hoped that it would lose some of it's teeth because of that terrain. 

The wetted bandana and burlap used to cut some of the smoke from their lungs was practically useless now. He'd stopped more than once to soak the material in the creek water but the incredible heat sucked the moisture of them almost as quickly as he could mount up again. He knew he didn't have the time to keep stopping and the smoke was becoming so heavy that every breath felt like hot grit being drawn into their throats.

Jesse could hear Ellie retching and thought fleetingly that he should have left her behind at the campsite. Too late now to change what was. They would be coming up to that next camp site soon, they had to be. If the crew had already pulled out, and judging by how dense the smoke was now, he suspected they would have, he would turn tail on the fire as well and get out of here. He was beginning to think that it would be wise to just do that anyway when the decision was taken out of his hands.

All three of the travellers were by now accustomed to the wildlife running frantically by them in order to escape the flames. When a young doe and her fortunate half grown fawn bounded out of the smoke and sprang past them it did not cause much alarm. Unfortunately, right on their tail, though not actually chasing them, a desperate cougar was suddenly upon them and under the mare's hooves before anyone could do anything to avoid it.

The cat screamed its indignation at finding its way blocked and Ginger put on the brakes and reared, terrified at finding this deadly predator right under her feet. Both animals scrambled in their attempts to get away from one another while Ellie began barking her tardy warning and made a charge at the cat to protect her master.

Pandemonium broke out as Jesse tried to control the frantic mare. She fought against the bit, shaking her head in her desire to get away. She began to kick at the cat while Ellie continued her offensive maneuverings, barking and snapping in her efforts to drive the cat away. The cougar screamed and lashed out with deadly claws in its frustration to escape from the horse's flailing hooves and the dog's ripping teeth.

Ginger's terror increased with the cat's angry scream and she started to buck and plunge in her renewed efforts to get away from it. The cat was finally able to scramble clear of the deadly hooves and with the dog chasing after it, the courgar ran swiftly across the break and disappeared into the woods. But Ginger was too far gone into flight mode and not thinking of anything other than to get away, she plunged forward and galloped full out along the fire break.

She was coughing with every stride she took but that didn't stop her. Jesse fought to gain control of her, grabbing the left rein down low by the bit, he sat back in the saddle and pulled her head around to force her into a circle. She fought against him, shaking her head and continuing to plunge ahead even though her head was turned around almost to her withers and she had no idea where she was going.

She reared and leaped into the air, nearly unseating her rider, and then grabbing the advantage she again took off again at a gallop and headed into the woods at breakneck speed. They didn't get far. In her panic and with hardly any visibility, Ginger promptly ran both herself and her rider into a tree. Jesse's head collided with a heavy branch as the force of the impact knocked the mare to her knees.

Jesse felt his consciousness leaving him but he knew that the last thing he wanted was to be left behind here and he frantically held on to the saddle horn in an effort to stay with the mare. Ginger scrambled to get to her feet but her hooves sank into the churned up dirt and became entangled in the detritus and exposed root system of the tree.

She fought against the hold the roots had on her and as she lunged forward there sounded a loud, resounding crack as her right foreleg shattered. She grunted in pain as the shock of it sent waves through her body. She bellowed out her frustration as she fought to get to her feet. Jesse felt her go down again and knew he was helpless to get out from under her. His body hit the dirt and the full weight of the mare came down on top of him. He was being crushed beneath her and he knew bones were breaking before his mind went into a swirling spiral and he passed out. Then nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except.....Belle.......

xxx

Sam was sitting upon the driver's seat beside Eric. The frustration had him by the throat and even though he knew that the loping team was going faster than he could go on foot, the desire to jump down and start running for town was struggling with his common sense.

“Can't you make this team go any faster?” he yelled above the crashing and banging of the wagon in motion. “We gotta hurry!”

“I'm pushin' my team as fast as I'm gonna push 'em!” Eric snarked back. “This is the second trip out here for these fellas and they ain't goin' out again!”

“They havta go out again!” Sam argued. “We have men left behind!”

“They weren't left behind,” Eric pointed out. “They chose to stay behind. I ain't riskin' my horses no more on some fool's errand!”

“Dammit!” Sam was beside himself. He kept looking back over his shoulder, not sure what he was hoping to see there. Smoke spread across the horizon and his heart sank at the folly of the rescue mission. He frantically wanted to get into town so he could turn around and come right back out again, but he dreaded having to face the Jordans with the news he had to give them.

He focused his eyes forward again and willed the horses to go faster.

Xxx

Belle brushed a loose strand of hair out of her eyes as she made her way down the hall of the Gibson home, stepping carefully over outstretched legs as she made her way to the kitchen. She needed a break and Martha had tea and coffee constantly on the go to help with frayed nerves. Ever since the wee hours of the morning, wagon loads of injured men had been arriving in town and everyone was working on their second wind. 

Soot-covered men sat in chairs or leaned against a wall, drinking tea or just plain water in an effort to ease their burning throats. Conversation was practically nil while coughing took over as the main form of communication. The air smelled of sweat and wood smoke and percolating coffee.

Many of the men had been treated and sent home to recuperate, but all patients were encouraged to stay close to the doctor until he was sure that each man was recovering. More than one who had seemed alright at first had developed difficulties breathing as raw, inflamed throats had swelled and threatened to close up entirely.

There had been train and wagon loads of recruits from neighbouring towns and ranches swarming into Brookswood. Everyone was coming to help out including a large contingent from Scott Medgar's ranches. Not only did the Medgars consider The Double J. a new extension of their own holdings, but it was simply common curtsey to send men to help in a crisis, even if one's own spread wasn't in jeopardy. One never knew when that tide could change and a wildfire was the most unpredictable and destructive enemy ranch land could have.   
   
Having a back up of capable men available to take over was a saving grace but David and Trish had their hands full dealing with minor burns and some more serious injuries caused by axes and picks going astray. The rooms in the house had filled up quickly and it wasn't long before the whole residence resembled a war zone with casualties spilling out into the yard and taking over neighbouring homes.

Everyone pitched in to help and as usual, Belle had been right in the forefront. She didn't have time to worry over her husband and sons-in-law although, whenever a new wagon load of injured or just plain tired men arrived in town her ear would seek out her husband's voice. When she didn't hear it she didn't know if it was relief or disappointment she felt.

Sally crying over a bad dream had left her slightly unnerved. The child had settled down soon enough once she had her grandmother's arms holding her tight, but Belle was still left with a niggling uncertainty. Sally was such a sensitive child and she picked up on so many things and even Beth was held in awe of her intuitiveness.

But there was nothing for it. The women stayed behind and did what they could to help with the injured so Belle threw herself into her work and kept her mind busy with the tasks required. It was only now, when there was a lull in the care giving that she found her thoughts drifting back to the welfare of her husband. Surely he would be coming back soon.

“Here Belle,” Martha set a cup down on the table for her. “A nice cup of tea. Tricia does keep a well stocked tea larder. Just about every type you could think of, and some I've never heard of at all. I wonder where she got all these?”

Belle sighed and sat down. She picked up her cup and with an appreciative smile took a tentative sip.

“We used to know someone who knew all about teas,” Belle told her. “A little too much actually. But she did introduce us all to a nice variety.”

“Nothing like a good cup of tea.”

Belle smiled. “Yes.”

Footsteps thumped up the porch steps and Beth stuck her head in though the alcove.

“Three more wagons coming into town!” she announced breathlessly. “I expect we'll be busy here again pretty soon.”

“Oh dear,” Belle took another quick swallow of tea and hurried down the hallway towards the office. “Trish, David!” She knocked on the office door.

“Yes?” came Tricia's voice from inside quickly followed by the woman herself opening the door.

“There are three more wagons coming. Beth thinks there's more injuries,” Belle announced. “We may need you David.”

“Oh blast!” David cursed as he was right in the middle of bandaging up a young man's burned hands.

“I'll finish up here David,” Tricia told him. “You go.”

“Yes alright,” David quickly agreed and allowing Tricia to take over the gauze, he snatched up his medical bag and headed for the door.

The young man in question smiled up through his sooty face at his new caregiver. The sudden change in his attendant didn't bother him in the least.

Xxx

Beth hardly had time to turn around when the wagons pulled up in front of the doctor's house and started vying for equal space to settle the horses. She ran down the steps, hoping that Jed would be in one of the wagons and felt disappointed and a little worried when she wasn't able to spot him right away. She was about to turn about and go back into the house for supplies when her mother, Merle and Isabelle all hurried passed her, carrying water and cloth and those strange bellows things that David had designed. 

Picking up her skirts, she followed her mother out amongst the cluster of wagons and set about offering help to those who required it. Isabelle went off by herself as soon as she spotted her man emerging from the dust and smoke surrounding the wagons. This deviation of her route from the others did not go unnoticed by the ladies and slight frowns were exchanged between them. 

“So much for her help.” Merle muttered. “That is one useless young woman.”

“Give her time Merle,” Belle responded sympathetically. “Those girls haven't had an easy life with that father of theirs.”

Merle smiled. “Forever the optimist, aren't you, Belle,” she stated. “I hope you're right.”

“Come along,” Belle gathered the troops, “let's see what we can do!”

 

David was right behind the ladies, carrying his own supplies and making a beeline for the first wagon. He had no idea where to start but jumping into it was always the best way to find out. He dove into the melee and instantly started making his quick assessments before the men were even out of the wagons. Those men who could, jumped down from the wagon beds and turned to those who couldn't make it on their own. A few others they did not dare touch for fear of causing even more serious injuries than the ones already obvious.  
    
“You fellas!” David asked those who were hovering around the wagons. “How many of you need attention?”

Deke stepped forward, coughing but shaking his head. “Most 'a these fellas are okay, Doc,” he choked out. “Ate a bit too much smoke, but they'll be okay. It's that wagon over there that's got the real injured fellas.”

David nodded and took the old wrangler's word for it. He didn't have time to second-guess and he would take Deke's word over anybody's when it came to a situation like this one. 

“Okay, you fellas!” David called out. “If you don't need assistance, go on home. If you can't do that, there's cots and food over at the church. Any of you start vomiting or have more difficulty breathing, let someone know. Myself or John will get to you when we can.”

This was followed by numerous nods from dirty, soot-covered heads and a weak chorus of agreement drifted through the hot dusty air. Deke stepped up and took control of those who didn't know where they should go and with more coughing and some spitting the group slowly began to disperse.

David hurried over to the next wagon with Deke right behind him. 

“Steven!” David came up short when he recognized his friend.

Steven was sitting at the end of one of the wagons, his legs dangling over the edge. He looked ragged and dark bruising was showing plainly through the soot. He glanced up at the familiar voice and managed a weak smile.

David was at his side instantly and taking Steven's chin in his hand, tilted his head up and raised a finger.

“Follow my finger Steven.”

Steven tried then grimaced and shut his eyes as the throbbing in his head increased.

David frowned. He took a closer look at the bump on Steven's head and peered into the lawyer's eyes.

“Have you vomited?” the doctor asked.

“No.”

“Alright, stay here,” David ordered him. “Don't move until I can get back to you. Understand?”

“Bridget can help me back to the hotel...”

“Don't argue with me!” David snapped. “I don't have time. Stay here until I get back!”

Without waiting for Steven to get over his surprise, David moved on to continue his rounds. The doctor stopped at every man he came to and asked them each the same questions.

“Look at me. How are your lungs? Can you breathe alright? Do you have a headache? Follow my finger—no, just with your eyes. Are you injured anywhere? How does your throat feel? Have you been able to drink some water?”

Spotting Merle coming down the steps with canteens of water and three of his devised smoke inhalators, David waved at her to get her attention. Merle caught the gesture and hurried over to him.

“You remember how to use these?” David asked her of the smoke inhalators.

Merle sent him a look of patient tolerance.

“You went over it three times with us David,” she reminded him. “and once would have been sufficient.”

“Yes yes alright,” David waved his silly question away. “I just wanted to be sure. Let me have one. Then if you and Mary can give everyone who's coughing a couple of hits with it, that would help me a lot.”

“That's why I'm here David.”

David accepted the reprimand and allowed himself to stop pestering. He left Merle to do her job while he continued with the men who were still sitting or standing around the wagons.

Xxx

Wheat heard the commotion as the wagons rattled their way down the main street heading towards the doctor's office. He was in the saloon helping to organize the volunteers who were arriving from neighbouring towns to help out with the fire. They were smart enough to know that if the fire wasn't stopped in its tracks here and now then their own spreads would be at risk and they sure didn't want that.

It was frustrating for them though, as they would arrive in town all expecting to be rushed out to the fire line only be be held back and told to wait until it was time for the next shift to take over. There were enough people already out there risking their necks along the break and everyone was hoping that would hold. Maybe the new arrivals wouldn't be needed at all. Just wait and see. Settle in at the saloon and have a drink, but not too much. If the fire jumped the break a bunch of drunken ranchers wasn't going to be of much use.

And there was Wheat, keeping the whole lot of them organized and contained. To make his job even more difficult, he was the one who kept being asked what was going on, what was the fire doing? Why wasn't he out there fighting it? Didn't he care what happened to his town? Wheat got fed up telling them that this wasn't his town and it wasn't his idea to be sitting in the saloon and nursemaiding a bunch of wet behind the ears ranchers' sons. The fact that many of them weren't much younger than Wheat himself and had already had their share of fighting forest fires didn't do much to alleviate the ex-outlaw's irritation.

This was no better than babysitting outlaws up at Devil's Hole. One little thing goes amiss and they're all running around like turkeys in a thunder storm. 

When he heard the wagons come through town, relief at finally being able to do something more constructive took over from his bad mood and he was quickly out the door before anyone could ask him any more dang fool questions. He was hoping that Kyle would be on this run and then maybe he would have some intelligent conversation for a change. And though he wouldn't actually admit it, he was worried about his partner and would be relieved to see him back in town safe and sound.

Wheat came up to the wagons just as they were coming to a halt and the dust was calming down. He skirted around various men who were covered in ash and dirt and smelled like wood smoke until he spied Kyle and Ames pushing themselves out of the third wagon. Kyle's hands were covered in gauze and he was being particularly careful as to where he put them.

“Geez Kyle,” was Wheat's greeting. “What'd ya' do?” And then started coughing from the heavy smoke filled air that had come in with the wagons. He caught his breath and got his voice back, even if it was a little strained. “That fire ain't jumped the break has it?”

“Naw, it's nothin' Wheat,” Kyle told him. “We just had ourselves a bit a' trouble with the dynamite, didn't we Ames?”

Ames dropped his gaze, not wanting to look Wheat in the eye. “Yeah,” was his lame comment.

Wheat picked up on Ames' anxiety and sniffed suspiciously.

“Oh yeah?” he persisted. “Well what happened then?”

“Wull, we was dynamitin' some 'a them big trees,” Kyle explained. “An' a small fire started. We done put it out though.”

“Oh yeah,” Wheat repeated as he bore into Ames. “An' whose fault was that?”

“C'mon Wheat, stop gettin' so ornery,” Kyle told him. “Ames didn't do nothin ta' cause that fire. He was real helpful out there.”

The three men were then distracted as people on the wagon close to them started yellin' for the doc and the doc himself sounding pretty dang frustrated at the summons. Wheat snorted at what he took to be the Doc's ineptitude and then turned his attention back to his partner. That doc better get his act in gear cause Kyle was gonna be needin' some doctorin' himself pretty soon Maybe Ames too.

“Wull, how come you got all burnt up and Ames here don't even have a singe?” Wheat was fishing for something to be snarky about.

Kyle and Ames both looked a little guilty.

“I can't help it if I like fire,” Ames spoke up in what he though was his own defence. “I didn't see no reason to kill it. It was just little.”

Wheat sent the young man an incredulous look. He was doing his best to be supportive at this squirts efforts to straighten himself out but every once in a while Mr. Ames still managed to come out with a comment that sent a shiver down Wheat's spine.  
    
“You mean you just stood by and did nothin' while Kyle got his hands all burnt up...”

Ames stepped back, feeling threatened and Kyle stepped in between them.

“Hey Wheat it's alright,” Kyle insisted. “He helped ta' put it out—eventually.”

“You little—I'm gonna wring yer neck!”

Ames yelped and stepped back even further but Wheat's attention was distracted again by the Doc yellin' at someone in the wagon right next to them. He was sure up in a rattle about somethin' and people on the wagon close to them started yellin' for the doc and there was a woman over in the next one screamin' and cryin' over who knew what.

“Damn!” Wheat grumbled. “This place is drivin' me nuts. If more wagons go out later I'm gonna be on one of 'em.”

“But Wheat,” Kyle pointed out. “Doc said you wasn't suppose ta' go out there. What with yer lungs an' all.”

“That was right on the fire break,” Wheat insisted and coughed again. “A'sides, what does he know? I ain't met a doctor yet who wasn't always overreactin' ta' things. Next group won't be that close to the fire. On top 'a that I been hearin' that some 'a them fellas up from Denver brought a few 'a them respirator things with 'em. Makes it so's ya' can breathe in smoke. And it's better than sittin' around here.”  
   
“Breathe in smoke?” Kyle stood slacked mouthed for a moment as his brain tried to get around that idea. “That don't sound too promisin' ta' me. Like it's more likely ta' suffocate ya' than anything else. Asides,  it's real bad out there,” he continued to insisted. “I don't think it's a good idee...”

Then Wheat was again distracted when he heard the doc calling his name. He turned to respond only to find himself grabbed by the shirt and darn near yanked off his feet.

“Dang it Doc!” Cough, cough, cough. “What are ya' doin'?”

xxx

Over and over again David made the rounds and asked the same questions. On the most part the men coughed and groaned but gave an affirmative that they were fine. Some of them nodded towards the other wagon, indicating more serious cases in there. One man in the third wagon started waving his arms and yelling to get the doctor's attention and despite the coughing fit that accompanied this attempt, he did get the message across.

David hurried over and found Belle already up in the wagon trying to staunch the bleeding from a serious axe wound. A young man was sitting on the patient's other side, holding his hand. He looked at David with red rimmed, sooty eyes that were wide with fear. David recognized that look; that desperate pleading for him to save the day, but one look at the injury caused the doctor's heart to sink. Blood was oozing from beneath a wrapping of padding, gauze and burlap and from the looks of the wagon bed the attempts to stop the flow hadn't been too successful.

“Okay, young man,” David tried to soothe him. “What's your name?”

The man tried to answer but only a groan came out.

“What's his name?” David asked the other man as he began a quick exam of the patient.

“That's my brother, Curtis,” the frightened voice responded and from the sounds of it, David assumed it was a very young man sitting across from him. Probably still in his teens.

“Curtis?” David asked. “You're Bernie?”

“Yeah. Please Doc, can ya' save 'em?”

Curtis had stopped moving and David was quickly checking his pupils to find the eyes had rolled back and did not respond. He took out his stethoscope and pulling open the shirt began to search for a heart beat. He cursed and began pumping the chest, hoping to get a response even though he had an inkling that it was already too late.

Bernie held on to his brother's hand and started to cry.

“Dammit!” David cursed again as he checked for a heart beat but was still getting nothing. 

He took the face plate of the inhalator and pressing it over Curtis' nose and mouth, pumped on the bellows, forcing oxygen into the man's lungs. Bernie went into hysterics.

“What are ya' doin'?!” he yelled as he tried to pull the contraption away from his brother's face. “Yer gonna suffocate 'em!”

“Let me go!” David insisted. “I'm trying to save him!”

Bernie pushed David back against the side of the wagon and the inhalator dropped to the floor boards. David scrambled to get upright again and snatching up the device tried to get it back into place.

“Belle, if you could keep giving him oxygen please.”

Belle nodded and took over that device while Bernie's tear filled eyes darted from one to the other, his stressed mind not sure what to do about this situation. Even in his desperate state he wasn't prepared to attack a woman, especially not Belle Jordan.

“Doc!” came a call from the other wagon. “Doc, we need ya' over here!”

“Just a minute!” David yelled.

“No! We need ya' now!”

David ignored the summons and went back to pumping while Belle worked the bellows. Breathing heavily himself, and sweating with the stress and exertion in the heat of the day, David worked on Curtis for what seemed an eternity but it was getting them nowhere. Finally he stopped one more time to check for any signs of life.

“Doc! C'mon. We need ya'!”

“Dammit!” David cursed again but finally had to accept defeat. He looked at Belle and sent her a subtle shake of his head. Her shoulders slumped but she removed the face mask and set the bellows aside. David then looked to the young brother. “I'm sorry Bernie. I can't help him. There's nothing more I can do.”

“You suffocated him!” Bernie accused again and grabbing David by the shirt, began to roughly shake him. “You killed em! You were suppose to save him and you killed em!”

Losing his temper at this assault, David grabbed the younger man, pulled him closer in and slapped the face piece over his nose and mouth. He gave the bellows two quick pumps and watched Bernie's eyes widen in surprise.

“Still think I suffocated him?” David growled.

“Oh, but....”

Bernie's response was lost on David as he was already hurrying on to the next patient. 

Bernie turned beseeching eyes to Belle.

“I thought he was gonna be alright,” he explained, his brain in a whirl. “He just cut his foot, that's all. I thought he'd be alright.”

“I know,” Belle tried to comfort him even though she knew it wouldn't mean much at that moment. “Dr. Gibson did his best, you know that don't you?”

But Bernie was lost in his shock and grief and holding his brother's hand, he sat, rocking himself back and forth as though he were a little boy again, seeking comfort from his mother. He didn't notice or even hear Belle leaving the wagon to offer assistance to others in need.

“C'mon Doc! We need ya'!”

“I'm coming!”

David passed by numerous injuries, some belonging to faces he knew, other's to strangers but he knew he couldn't stop. Those quick glances were enough for him to know that they weren't life-threatening and they'd have to wait. Climbing up into the next wagon, he instantly knew who his next patient was. An older man with blood escaping from a sliced open foot, lay groaning on the wagon bed. A number of his friends were with him and a couple of them were actually trying to remove the boot.

“NO!” David yelled at them, still feeling the frustration of having just lost Curtis from the same type of injury.

“But...” came back the reasoning. “we's just gonna take it off so's you can see the foot.”

“I'll do that in my surgery!” David growled at them as he knelt down beside the new patient and began to check his vitals. “The boot may be the only thing holding that foot together,” he explained as he worked. “Take it off and he could bleed to death in minutes.”

“Oh.” A number of complexions noticeably paled through the layer of dirt, sweat and soot.

“Alright. Is this Kurt Ferguson?” David asked.

“Naw, I'm Kurt,” answered one of the boot pullers. “That's my Uncle Kelly.”

David nodded. “Are you hurt, Kurt?”

“Naw, I'm okay.” Kurt answered. “Chopped my thumb half off with the axe, but my wife can stitch it up....”

“Oh for goodness sakes!” David snapped at him. “Can you walk?”

“Sure. It's my hand, not my foot....”

David focused his attention to another of the group. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I ain't.”

“Good! You help Kurt get his uncle into my surgery. My wife will know what to do. And you Kurt! Tell my wife about your injury and someone will tend to it until I can get to it. Then you will stay there!”

“Wull, I don't see....”

“YOU STAY THERE!”

David swivelled around and his eyes locked onto a body covered with a burlap sack. He lifted up the corner of it to take a look underneath.

“Is this Phillip Caffery?”

“Yeah,” came back the affirmative. “He weren't injured or nothin', just up an' died on the way back.”

David sighed and shook his head as he dropped the burlap back into place. Phillip had asthma and should never have been out on the fire line. Why didn't people listen to him? David had told him not to go. Phillip had a young wife and son, and there was a new baby on the way. This was turning into a bad day for many.

David hopped down from the wagon and prepared to do the rounds of the others who were now standing or sitting on the tailgates and the steps of his house. The first person he bumped into brought him up short and despite the urgency of his rounds he couldn't help but take advantage of this fortuitous encounter. It wasn't very often that the opportunity to slam a point home came so readily to his hands.

“Mr. Carlson!”

Wheat had been hovering over his injured partner but turned at the sound of his name being called. He hardly got an acknowledgement out when he felt himself being grabbed by the shirt sleeve and hauled over to the tailgate of a wagon.

“Dang it, Doc!” Wheat complained and then started coughing with all the wood smoke in the air. “What are ya' doin'?” 

“I want you to take a look at this man,” David instructed him and motioned to one of the men sitting in the wagon to flick the burlap tarp off the corpse.

Wheat's complexion paled slightly. He had seen dead bodies before but usually the reasons for death were obvious. This fella looked like he was simply asleep and that's what made the sight disturbing.

Kyle stepped up and spat tobacco juice off to the side. Sometimes not having much of an imagination could be to the soul's benefit. 

“I remember seein' 'em,” the smoky ex-con commented. “What done happened to 'em?”

“He had asthma Mr. Murtry,” David informed the smaller man then pinned Wheat down with a hard look. “It's a condition that causes a weakening of the lungs.”

“Yeah, yeah I know what asthma is,” Wheat grumbled uncomfortably. “That ain't nothin' like what I got....”

“On the contrary, Mr. Carlson; it's very much like what you got,” David mimicked him. “I told this young man not to go out to the fire line. He didn't listen to me, now he's dead. Leaving behind a young wife and two children. Am I getting my point across?”

“Yeah Doc,” Wheat insisted. “Ya' didn't see me goin' out there, did ya'?”

“Only because I threatened to have you locked up,” David reminded him. “I wanted to make sure you understood exactly what I was talking about so that you wouldn't start making plans to head out there with the next wagon load.”

Wheat puffed up and started blustering; a sure sign that this is exactly what he had been thinking.

“No no, a' course not,” Wheat lied. But he sent a quick look over to the pale corpse and swallowed, suddenly seeing reason. “I ain't goin' out there...”

“But Wheat,” Kyle interrupted him. “You just done said that you was gonna....”

“Shuddup Kyle, that weren't nothin',” Wheat insisted. “Here, get the Doc ta' take a look at yer hands. You got yerself bad burned there.”

“Burned?” David was instantly on the job again. “I've had a number of burn injuries come in. Has the fire jumped the break?”

“Oh no, Doc,” Kyle assured him with a grin despite the pain he was in. “We just had us a little incident with the dynamite, that's all.”

David frowned with concern.

“Let me see.”

“It ain't nothin',” Kyle insisted as he raised his gauze covered hands. He grinned, his tobacco stained teeth almost the same shade as his soot covered face. “I weren't gonna bother ya' with this, considerin',” and he glanced over the doctor's shoulder to the corpse on the wagon bed. “but Wheat here kind'a insisted.”

“'Course I insisted ya' little squirt!” Wheat grumbled. “How are ya' suppose ta' handle dynamite if'n yer hands ain't no good?”

“Wull yeah, but they ain't too bad,” Kyle insisted. “Not like some 'a these other fellas. A'sides, we got Ames ta'...”

“Ames!” Wheat snarked as he sent a withering glare over to their quiet companion. “I'm gonna wring yer scrawny little neck ya' damn firebug....”

Ames' eyes showed fear through the soot and he took a step back. He and Wheat had been getting on pretty well since they'd returned from their previous adventures but now it seemed the craggy old outlaw had turned the tables on him again.

“What did I do?” Ames pleaded. “I done nothin'....”

“Yeah,” Wheat growled. “I bet that's exactly what you done; nothin'! You was out there with Kyle. How is it he got all burnt and you ain't even singed?”

David held up his hand while he carefully unwrapped the gauze. “Gentlemen, please. I don't have time for this.” He frowned as he viewed the red blistered flesh and quickly wrapped them up again.  
“Okay. You know where John and Mary live?”

Kyle looked blank.

“Nope,” Wheat answered.

David looked around him until he spotted Merle, but she was busy assisting other injured men. He took note of Belle who was close at hand, but also busy, offering water to another group of men. He scanned the area further and his eyes lit upon the young deputy.

“Joe! Can you take these fellas over to John's place?” David asked. “And while you're at it, this fella too, and this one, and you. Anybody else? Smoke inhalation and minor burns?”

“Yeah Doc.”

“Yep.”

“All of you, follow Deputy Morin,” David instructed. “John will look after you.”

Joe nodded agreement and began to gather all his charges together. The herd was starting to dwindle but David still found himself with a number of fellas who didn't rise up from their seated positions. Belle had moved over to check on Curtis' bereaved brother when Phillip's very pregnant wife Sharon came running towards the wagon, her young son in tow.

David was quick to intercept her and to give Belle a summoning wave to let her know that she was needed to assist him.

“Dr. Gibson!” Sharon sobbed. “My husband! I heard....” her voice broke and she clutched at his sleeves, desperate for an answer that would ease her fears.

“I'm sorry Sharon,” David told her gently, but that was all that was needed to send the young mother into hysterics.

Belle was instantly there, taking her into her arms and trying to console her.

“Where is he?” Sharon cried. “I need to see him! Is that him there?”

Without waiting for an answer, she broke free of Belle to climb into the wagon bed where the burlap-covered body lay in wait. Her son began to cry fearfully as his mother's sobs intensified and Belle was quick to pick him up and distract him from the scene in the wagon. She and David exchanged looks and then the doctor carried on with his rounds.

Two more prone men had David worried as he approached them, but though unconscious, both were still breathing and David instructed friends to carry them into his house. He knew that Tricia was going to be overwhelmed with the more serious injuries being sent to her. But he hoped that with their current helpers present, people like the very capable Martha Trevors, they would be able to cope until he could join them in the surgery. 

Xxx 

Eric Schulmeyer climbed down from the first wagon, waving his arms and cursing at anyone close enough to hear him. Sam was right on his heels, ducking the waving arms and ignoring the verbal abuse.

“We need a team to go back out again!” Sam was yelling at him. “We can't leave them stranded!”

“None of these horses are goin' back out!” Eric reiterated. “Would it help yer boss if'n they dropped dead in their traces? You wanna go back out there then find yerself some other horses!”

“You know darn well that most of the horses in town are already in use!” Sam argued.

“That ain't my problem!” Eric snarked back. “I ain't killin' my horses for nobody.” He turned around and cursed at the two men still sitting placidly on the other wagon seats. “Goddammit! Get them wagons unloaded and those horses back to the livery! What ya' hangin' around fer!?”

Emmett and Seth exchanged glances and both looked over their shoulders at the carnage they had been hauling.

“We still got wounded guys here!” Emmett yelled back.

“Well drag 'em off,” Eric yelled back. “The doc can tend to 'em on the ground just as easily as in my wagons!”

“But...the doc's already here....”

“Oh fer Christ's sakes!” Eric cursed. He made a beeline towards the wagon he had just vacated and climbing up on board he picked up the lines and prepared to slap his tired team into motion.

“HEY!”

Everybody jumped and even Eric was startled into stopping his team before they took a step.

“What do ya' think yer doin' Schulmeyer!” Carl Jacobs strode past Sam and accosted the teamster.

“My horses need rest!” Eric complained. “I'm takin' 'em to the barn!”

“You let Doc finish first!” Carl yelled at him. “What the hell do ya' think this is? You hang tight. Your horses are fine!”

“Well they ain't gonna be fine!” Eric complained. “Two of 'em have already been stole from me and now Sam here wants ta' take two more! And a wagon! Dagnabbit! I already got one broken wagon left out there and now Sam wants ta' take another!? We're gonna need them wagons—and fresh horses in case that fire jumps the break. What good they gonna be if they's all done in from runnin' back and forth fer no good reason!”

“Just hang tight,” Carl told him. “We ain't askin' ya' to run your horses into the ground. Just let the Doc finish and try and help him out will ya'? Just give me a minute.”

Eric sighed dramatically and settled into his seat to await the verdict.

Carl turned back to Sam.

“What's goin' on?” he asked the young man. “What do ya' need one of Eric's wagons for?”

Sam took a deep breath and tried to collect his thoughts.

“Mr. Jordan has gone missin',” Sam explained. “He didn't show up at the crew station. Jed and that friend of theirs, ah Reece, they took two of Eric's horses and went back to look for him. I need to get another team and wagon together to go back after them.”

Carl stood open mouthed for a second or two as he took all this in.

“Jordan is still out there?” the sheriff finally asked.

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed, “and he might be injured or trapped, or both, and we gotta get back out there to help them. We can't just leave 'em there...”

“Yeah yeah,” Carl waved him into silence. “Dammit.” He looked around, biting his lower lip as he considered his options. “No,” he finally decided. “Eric's right.”

“But Sheriff, we gotta...”

“I know Sam,” Carl agreed. “but we're gonna need Eric's teams and wagons. Even those other saddle horses are done it. There's no guarantee that break is gonna hold and we need to have these horses rested and ready to go to get new crews out there in a hurry.”

Sam's shoulders slumped. “We can't just leave them out there.”

“I know,” Carl agreed. “Listen, if you can find a horse or two that ain't already in service and the owners will let ya' have 'em, then go and see if you can find those fellas. But we can't spare the work teams, not now. Dammit!”

Sam looked defeated. “Yeah, alright.”

“Jesse is my friend too, Sam,” Carl reminded him. “I hope to God Jed can find him and get him outa there.” He glanced over to Belle who was busy consoling a rather distraught young woman. “Does Belle know?”

Sam looked over to her and a knot gathered in his gut.

“I don't think so,” he admitted. “I'll go tell her.”

“Well, I'll come with ya',” Jacobs offered reluctantly. “This isn't gonna be easy and someone official oughta be present.”

xxx

Belle got as far as the boardwalk when Beth and Isabelle caught up with her. All three ladies stopped and scanned the wagons in hopes of finding a loved ones face in amongst the soot covered group. Isabelle gave a squeal of delight and ran across the street and into the arms of her fiance.

Harry had climbed out of the wagon as soon as they had stopped and had barely taken two steps when his bride-to-be was in his arms and smothering his soot covered face with kisses. His numerous bruises in that area caused him to cringe and was secretly relieved when Isabelle pulled away from him in disgust.

“Eww,” she complained as she pulled out her lace handkerchief and wiped it across her mouth. Seemingly satisfied with this impromptu toilette, she glanced down and saw the layer of grime and soot that had transferred from Harry's clothing onto her summer frock. “Oh no!” She began swiping at the mess but all she managed was to make it worse. Finally she sighed and giving up the effort she stuffed the offending hanky up her sleeve to hide it. “Oh well. I suppose it will wash out.” she looked around her and noticed that most of the ladies now had the same layer of grim from having given similar greetings to their own men. Suddenly Isabelle felt like one of the group and she smiled with pride at the mark of honour she now wore. 

She turned her attentions back to her fiance and again threw open her arms to give him the greeting that he deserved.

“Oh Harry, thank goodness you're alright!” she declared as she showered more kisses over his dirty face.

“Oh now now Princess,” he soothed her. “There was nothin' to worry your pretty little head about. Just doing my part, you know.”

“You're so brave,” she continued. “It's not everyone who would put their lives on the line fighting a fire. Why, that Sheriff Trevors, and Joe of all people! I thought Joe was our friend, but I guess it takes a crisis to find out who your friends really are! Why he and that sheriff came right into our home and dragged Emmett and Seth out the door so they could drive the wagons! Not that they didn't deserve it mind you. I couldn't believe how cowardly they were behaving—and there's my Pa letting them get away with it.   
“Now here you are putting them all to shame. You're so brave. I knew I picked a good man to marry. Pa can't have nothing to say against you now. You really showed them....oh and look! You have a black eye! Oh my poor dear! You were injured in the line of duty!” 

“Oh well, that's nothin'...”

“Nothing?” Isabelle carried on. “You could have lost your eye! What happened? Did one of those clouts hit you with a shovel?”

“No no, oh well, yes if you must know,” Harry lied. “But you mustn't blame them my little peach. It was dark out there and all the smoke and confusion. It was hard to tell what was...”

“Oh my poor dear! And here's another bruise on your forehead. And is that blood under the soot?We'll have to get you over to Dr. Gibson's place right away. I'm sure he'll give you first priority since he knows we want to get married as soon as possible and....oh, you should see what they have done to the church! Families who came in from their ranches have taken it over! They've ruined it! And all our food for the reception is being used up....”

“Oh now now,” Harry patted her arm. “Don't go getting all upset over that. We'll have our weddin' day. May not be today, but you just be patient my little love button. We can't be too selfish here, we must think about the welfare of the town you know.”

“You are such a kind man,” Isabelle cooed as she stroked his cheek. “Here you are just back from fighting that fire, and you're injured and everything and all you can think about is the welfare of the town. You are such a good man Harry. You put me to shame with your understanding and generosity.”

Harry smiled and puffed up with pride. “That's what comes of being a Bannerman man, Isabelle. Putting the welfare of others first just comes natural after a while.”

A strangled cry from Belle Jordan caught the attention of the couple. Isabelle gasped and brought a hand to her chest. Worried eyes turned to the small group across the street where it became obvious that two of the Jordan ladies were in some distress.

“Oh dear,” Isabelle responded to the drama. “What in the world? Has something happened?”

“Apparently Jesse Jordan got himself left behind out there,” Harry explained and he sent a worried look back towards the smoky horizon. “The Kid and Reece stayed behind to look for him. It's a fool's errand goin' back into that, but...”

“It certainly is!” Isabelle was quick to agree. “I'm just so relieved to have you back here safe and sound. I understand new crews being sent out just in case, but to actually go back to where the fire is? That's crazy!”

Harry found himself feeling defensive. Usually he was the last person on the list to put himself into harm's way but he was painfully aware of his lack of friends and that Heyes and the Kid were on the top of that short list. Besides, Kid was his best man and Harry was going to be needing him.

“But Peaches,” he protested even though the self-preservation instincts inside him were imploding with his audacity. “That's Jesse Jordan stranded out there and even though they didn't say it in so many words, I truly believe they were hoping that I would return with Sam to help them. Can't blame them for wanting my assistance can we? Besides Sweetness I thought you liked the Jordans.” 

“Well yes I do,” Isabelle pouted. “The Jordans have always been very nice to me though I can't say the same thing about their daughters! And Jed has actually been very rude at times!” Her tight expression softened a little as she was reminded of something else. “Of course they were very nice to me when I needed a place to stay here. Ohh!” she stamped her foot in mild irritation. “This just isn't fair! How could this happen on our wedding day! Nothing is going right for me and now you want to go back out there? How can you be so cruel?”

“Now now Cupcake. You're just not lookin' at this from the right perspective.”

“What other perspective could there possibly be?”

“You're always lookin' for ways to put your brothers to shame,” Harry pointed out. “What better way than to have your fiance become a hero?”

Isabelle's countenance softened as a thoughtful expression came into her eyes.

“And not just your brothers,” Harry continued now that he was on a roll. “but everyone in town would have to admit that you found yourself a fine husband. Even Jed Curry would be jealous of our good fortune. Especially if I have a hand in saving his life as well. Why he would be forever in our debt.”

Isabelle's lips tipped up into a smile.

“I do believe you're right Harry dear,” she cooed. “Why, everyone in town would be envious of your bravery and those silly women would be so jealous of me...” A large grin took over her face as she gazed lovingly into those dark brown, smoke irritated eyes. “You're such a fine, brave man. Of course you must go and help out wherever you can.”

“Of course, of course my little peach,” Harry assured her. “I just came back with the wagons to help ensure that the injured all arrived here safely. I knew that Sam intended to get a party together to go back out there. That is if you don't mind...”

“Papa would be so impressed,” she cooed softly as she wiggled up against him. “He couldn't have nothing to say against you if you were a hero in this town.”

“Oh well...”

“And it would sure show everybody else just how important and brave Harry Briscoe truly is,” she continued, voicing Harry's previous argument as though it had been her idea right from the start. “Even Jed would have to acknowledge that you were somebody to be respected after you save his life from that terrible fire. And the Jordans would be forever in your debt. Why you'd be....”

“Ah yes yes,” Harry swallowed as he gently pushed her away from him. Much more of that and he wouldn't be able to wait until their wedding night. “Once again my dear, you show your wisdom and your truly compassionate nature. Yes, you know me too well. They'd be fools not ta' accept my offer of assistance. And we'd best hurry or Sam might leave without me.”

Isabelle smiled and hooking her arm in his, the betrothed couple hurried over to interrupt the rescue plans.

xxx

Jacobs and Sam approached Belle where she was assisting a man out of the wagon. Carl touched her gently on the arm to get her attention. Belle looked over at them and smiled but then a look of concern took over when she saw their expressions.

“Is Beth around somewhere?” Jacobs asked.

“Ahh,” Belle started to look around and spotted her daughter wetting down a towel for young man who had a bloody forehead. “Beth!” Belle called out and then beckoned her over as soon as they had eye contact.

Beth came an the run, suddenly worried over the fate of her husband. The expressions from the three people did little to alleviate her concerns.

“What's the matter?” Beth asked breathlessly. “Is Jed alright?”

Belle took her hand and both ladies looked to the lawman to give them the news.

“It's not as bad as all that,” Jacobs began. “At least, I hope it ain't. Belle, apparently Jesse didn't show up at any of the base camps. He left one camp and was heading for another when they decided to pull out so everyone thought he was with someone else. It wasn't until the wagons met up that they realized he was missing.”

Beth squeezed her mother's hand, both needing and trying to give comfort.

“Oh Mama!”

“Oh God! Oh no, Jesse! No!”

“Now, Jed and Reece went back to look for him,” Jacobs continued, thinking he was giving reassurance only to hear Beth gasp in fear. “I'm sure they'll find him. They have an idea where he was going. I'm sure it will be alright.”

But the two women were overcome with fear and weren't hearing much of the reassurances.

“Jesse shouldn't have been out there in the first place!” Belle insisted. “He knows how dangerous fires can be. He's not a young man anymore...”

“I'm sure Jed will find him Mama,” Beth tried to reassure even though fear for her father and her husband was threatening to overwhelm her.

“I need to get back out there,” Sam said, breaking through their fear and getting them both to focus. “I assured Jed that as soon as I got back to town I would get a wagon and come back for them.”

“Then why aren't you going?” Belle asked, sounding accusatory in her anxiety.

“Eric won't give me any of his horses!” Sam sounded more frustrated than ever. “I need at least one horse and a good wagon or cart to get out there for them. I assured Jed that I would but I can't find any horses. It would be good if I can take someone else with me as well. Nobody should be alone out there.”

“You can take our surrey,” Belle offered. “or Beth's buggy. And one of the horses.”

Sam's shoulders slumped with relief at this offer. “Oh yeah. Thank you Belle. That would be great,” he accepted. “When you think about it, I really don't need a heavy freight wagon just something with a bed on it. And I don't really need Eric's heavy draft horses either. Something light and fast would be better. The surrey I think would have more room, but still light enough.”

“Both Daisy and Monty are well rested,” Belle offered, having reconsidered her reluctance to offer the use of her beloved filly. “You're welcome to take either.”

“Daisy would be the fastest...” Sam opted.

“No,” Jacobs cut him off, then gave Beth a placating pat on the arm when she hit him with an offended look. “Nothin' wrong with Daisy, Beth, other than that she's too young.”

“You're right about that,” Sam agreed after some thought. “Once I get Monty into his pace he'll go forever. And he's steady too. Not many horses as sensible as him. Yeah, I'll take Monty if that's alright with you, Mrs. Jordan.”

“Yes of course,” Belle agreed. “They're just out back of Joshua's place in the field they bought. We'll get him hitched up right away.”

“Good,” Sam nodded. “Thanks. I'll take Joe with me.”

“No you won't!” Jacobs put the kibosh on that. “I need all my medical fellas and law men here in town. Goodness knows Doc needs all the help he can get and I need Joe here to help me keep this town in order. Nothing like a bunch of badges in plain sight to keep people from doing something stupid. Dammit, like I said before; Jesse Jordan is my friend too! Why, the Jordans have been a pillar in this community long before I was elected sheriff so this ain't easy for me either. I've already lost Jed and Reece and now you too and I can't spare any more men on this.”

“Howdy folks,” came Harry Briscoe's voice from behind the group. “I am here to offer my assistance in going back to save Mr. Jordan” He smiled at Belle. “Don't you worry ma'am, we'll get your husband home safe and sound. Ah, both your husbands!”

Silence settled over the group. Jacobs and Sam exchanged a quick look. Jacobs jerked a thumb in the detective's direction.

“Now him I can spare,” 

xxx

David sighed as he took one more look around and found that he had come to the end of the seriously injured. He turned on his heel and went back to the beginning of the line again. Steven was still sitting where the doctor had left him and Merle was beside him, offering him some water from the canteen. He didn't seem interested in drinking so she poured some water onto a cloth and bathed his forehead.

David approached and placed a hand on Steven's shoulder. Steven opened his eyes and tried to manage a smile.

“Hi David. Taken care of everyone?”

“Not everyone,” David informed him quietly. “but the most pressing are being seen to. Sorry I had to make you wait.”

“That's alright. There's others here worse off than me.”

“Hmm,” was David's only response as he tilted Steven's head up towards him again. “Is your headache any worse?”

“I don't think so. It's hard to tell.”

“Merle, could you go and get Bridget please?”

“Oh. Yes certainly.”

“You sound worried,” Steven commented as he watched Merle trot off to Heyes' house.

David smiled. “Just cautious,” he assured the patient. “I want you to lay down for a while, but I don't want you left alone. I'm sure you'll have no objections to your wife sitting with you.”

“Not at all,” Steven agreed. “but won't that leave you short handed?”

“There's not too many serious injuries,” David sounded optimistic. “Mostly smoke and John is handling the majority of those cases. Mr. Murtry has the worst of the burn injuries so far and he's being tended to. I'm surprised Mr. Ames didn't suffer more damage considering his close proximity.”

“The gods favour those who are mad,” Steven philosophized.

David chuckled. “Yes. Oh Bridget—good, you're here.”

Bridget swooped in upon her husband

“Steven! Merle told me you were injured,” she exclaimed, her voice raised with her worry and stress. “Is it serious? What do you need me to do? David, will he be alright?”

David placed a hand on her arm to settle her.

“I think so,” he assured her. “I just need you to sit with him over in your hotel room. He's taken a nasty bump to the head and I don't want....”

Steven interrupted this commentary by suddenly and silently going limp as a noodle and collapsing onto his side. Bridget gasped and grabbing his arm, began to shake him.

“Steven! Steven, what's wrong?”

Without a word, David moved in and checked for vitals. Steven's skin had turned cold and clammy while his heart rate had suddenly escalated. He groaned slightly but other than that he was completely unresponsive.

David looked around, seeing who was close at hand. There was Brisco over on the boardwalk, but he appeared pre-occupied with his fiancee and not likely to be of much help. Carlson was still with Kyle and hopefully not killing Ames. Joe hadn't returned from John's house so had probably been recruited there to assist. The doctor was beginning to feel desperate when his burning eyes lighted on a familiar and very capable figure.

“Oh, thank goodness,” he breathed with relief, then gave a wave and raised his voice. “Sheriff Trevors! Can you give me a hand over here!”

Lom turned away from directing traffic and came over to see what all the fuss was about.

“Sure Doc,” he greeted the medical man “How can I help ya'?”

“We need to get Steven into my house,” David told him. “Quickly.”

Lom gave a curt nod and didn't waste time with pointless questions. He had been helping out all morning in whatever capacity had been required of him. Now, seeing a friend obviously stricken, he got into position and helped David to lift the man off the bench. 

“David, what's wrong with him?” Bridget was pleading for an answer. “He was fine and then he just collapsed! What's the matter?”

“Bridget, help me get him into the house,” David tried to sound reassuring and he certainly wasn't inclined to go into details of her husband's condition out here in the street. “I need you to stay calm. Alright? Please, try to stay calm.”

Bridget took a deep shuddering breath but then nodded.

“Yes, alright. Alright. Let's get him to your place. Quickly.”

“Good. Let's go.”

With David at Steven's head and Lom holding his feet, the small procession moved as quickly but as gently as they could to the doctor's house. Bridget held on to her husband's hand the whole way, stroking his face and silently praying for him to open his eyes. Somewhere in the peripheral range of her conscious mind, she heard but did not acknowledge the sound of her mother's panicked cry. 

“Oh God! Oh no Jesse! No!”

xxx

 

Yuma Arizona

 

Following the portly middle-aged deputy along the boardwalk Heyes' heart sank with a feeling that bordered on desperation. Surely this was just a technicality, nothing serious. Everything was fine. He was trying to be optimistic, trying not to let old life-long habits take over and ruin what was likely a simple enquiry. He tried to relax but Heyes could never, ever convince himself that a walk to the Sheriff's Office was fine.

“Any idea what this is about Deputy?” he finally couldn't stop himself from asking.

“Nope,” the deputy answered. “Sheriff just asked me ta' find ya' and bring ya' to the office.”

“Hmm. Who is the sheriff in Yuma these days?”

“Mike Nugent,” the deputy informed him and proceeded to spit a stream of tobacco juice into the street. “Ya' know 'em?”

“No,” Heyes wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. “can't say that I do.”

The deputy made a quick turn and entered into the familiar interior of a sheriff's office. The sun was slowly sinking behind the horizon but even with the temperatures of the day the adobe structure was cooler and far more comfortable than the wooden structures around town. The atmosphere inside the office was still stuffy due to the lack of the hoped for breeze and dust had settled on everything in sight, but at least it wasn't stifling hot. Even the sheriff sitting behind his desk was a combination of muted, dusty colours from his blond hair and bushy moustache on down through his once white shirt and beige trousers. 

Heyes noted that the stove was still on and the coffee pot simmering upon it in hopes of some takers.

“Coffee?” the sheriff glanced up upon their entrance and had taken note of Heyes' glance.

“No think you Sheriff Nugent,” Heyes answered with a ingratiating smile. “I was just finishing up supper with my wife and would prefer to join her for coffee once we're done here. Nothing personal.”

“Hmm,” the sheriff nodded and began to rifle through the dust and papers on his desk. “You might change your mind about that before we're done.”

Heyes felt a nervous smile pull at the corner of his mouth. What kind of man was he facing here? Turner and Jacobs were fair men and Heyes had learned to become comfortable in their presence. But he knew from experience that there were far too many lawmen like Morrison, especially in these transient filled border towns. He brought his hand up and coughed to cover his nervousness.

“What's this all about Sheriff?” he asked.

Nugent didn't answer him, and finding the desired sheet of paper he creased his brow and ran his eyes over the information written on it. The deputy motioned for Heyes to take a seat in front of the desk and Heyes accommodated him even though he was feeling more and more like a sacrificial lamb. He was acutely aware of the deputy taking a seat behind him, discreetly placing himself between the ex-outlaw and the office door.

Finally the sheriff took a deep breath and looked at Heyes from under his dusty blond eye brows.

“Mr. Heyes?” he asked pointedly.

“Yessir.”

Legal eyes glanced back down at the sheet of paper.

“Mr. Han Heyes?”

Again, “Yessir.”

“As in 'Hannibal Heyes'?”

Heyes felt the chill go down his spine. Ever since his arrest and subsequent incarceration an unfamiliar law man pinning him down with his real name caused his stress level to elevate. Used to be he could look a man square in the face and tell a lie if he had a mind to. His open expression, warm brown eyes and engaging smile could crack the hardest shell of the most suspicious mark within moments of engaging. People looked into his 'soul' and wanted to trust him and he had no qualms about leading them astray.

But when faced with this very straight forward question and knowing that under the conditions of his pardon he was obliged to tell the truth, his relaxed and open demeanour disappeared. He couldn't help the subtle twitch in the corner of his mouth that coincided with a blinking of his eyes. He coughed again and shifted in his chair.

“Yessir,” he finally conceded.

Nugent leaned back in his chair and this time practically looked down his nose at his guest.

“Now it seems the last I heard Hannibal Heyes was on parole with some very strict conditions attached,” he commented. “One of those conditions states quite clearly that you must report to the sheriff of any town you happen to lit in and yet, here I am having to send my deputy to go find you and bring you here. You're not even allowed out of your resident county without supervision and yet here you are, hiding in plain sight and attempting to exit these United States. Now what am I suppose to make of that?”

“For one thing Sheriff, I was not attempting to hide, in plain sight or otherwise. That parole was lifted earlier this summer,” Heyes explained helpfully. “I am a free man and can come and go anywhere I like, without supervision. Governor Warren and the members of the penal board felt that I had proved myself to be reformed and could carry on living a normal life.”

“Uh huh,” came the sceptical response. “You got anything in writing?”

“Excuse me?”

“In writing!” the sheriff clarified. “Anything official, stamped and signed, stating that you are now a free man and can come and go as you please?”

“Oh,” Heyes' heart sank. “No. We didn't think that would be necessary. I can certainly see now that it might have been a good idea...”

“Uh huh,” was the repeated response. “You see this office and many of the other law offices along the southern border were informed of your parole. And as I said, the conditions of that parole were very clearly stated. We were sent a photograph of you and cautioned to keep an eye out for you and to detain you if necessary. I suppose your 'guardians' were concerned that you might make an attempt to flee the country,” he smiled sardonically. “or perhaps they were hoping you would so they could have an excuse to throw you back in prison and throw away the key.”

Heyes again shifted uncomfortably but made no comment. His first thought was how he had intended to do just that in order to be with Abi. It was not likely he would have gotten far.

“Now,” the sheriff continued. “I have yet to receive any correspondence from anyone informing me that those conditions have changed.”

“I'm sure they just haven't arrived yet,” Heyes assured the lawman. “It hasn't been that long since the parole was lifted.”

“Yet, here you are attempting to leave the country without anything official on your person to collaborate what you're saying.” Nugent pointed out. “How do I know you've actually turned over a new leaf and are now being honest?”

“I can sent a telegram,” Heyes offered. “I'm sure my lawyer will be able to clear things up.”

“I'm sure he will,” Nugent agreed. “but in the meantime I think it best that you remain here as our guest until we can hear back from him.”

“The stage is leaving in the morning...”

“Don't expect to be on it.”

Heyes sighed, irritation starting to take over from anxiety.

“Alright Sheriff,” he reluctantly agreed as he stood up. “If you're going to insist...”

The reactions of both lawmen caused Heyes to stop in his tracks, shocked and anxious once again at the instant change in the lawmens' demeanour. The sheriff and the deputy were both instantly on their feet with guns drawn and aimed at their guest.

“Just where do you think you're going, Mr. Heyes?” Nugent asked him over the top of his handgun.

“I thought I should get the telegram sent as soon as possible and then rejoin my wife at the hotel.” This had sounded reasonable to Heyes but it didn't appear that the sheriff agreed.

“And what are the chances of you still being in town come morning?” Nugent enquired quietly. As I said; you will remain as our guest—here,” and he gestured towards the jail cells. “Until we hear back from your lawyer. That is if we do hear back from him. My deputy will send any telegrams you might care to write.”

Heyes felt the deputy step up behind him and relieve him of his schofield and irritation now had a firm hold.

“You're arresting me?” he accused the law. “You have no grounds...”

“I'm not arresting you,” Nugent countered. “I'm detaining you. And I don't need a reason other than what I have already stated.”

“Sheriff, if I were trying to sneak across the border would I have booked our fare on the coach using my real name?” Heyes asked, trying once again to be reasonable.

“You didn't use your real name,” Nugent was being picky. “Why would you shorten it if you weren't trying to hide your identity?” He smiled ironically. “Hide in plain sight as they say.”

Heyes sighed. 

“I was trying to be discreet,” he explained. “People see the names 'Hannibal' and then 'Heyes' together and they...” another heavy sigh. This was going nowhere and he knew it. “My wife is with me,” he continued, changing tactics. “We're on our honeymoon. We have a daughter waiting for us back home in Colorado...”

“You're on your honeymoon but you already have a daughter?” Nugent's brows went up in instant judgement.”

Heyes' lips pursed as his irritation grew.

“We were married last Christmas and our honeymoon was delayed,” he explained, trying to stay polite. “Our daughter is adopted.”

“Well that's fine,” Nugent accepted that. “but how do I know that you and your wife didn't plan to disappear into old Mexico and then send for your daughter once you were settled?”

“I have a business in Colorado!” Heyes' voice was raising as his frustration grew. “I have friends there and family. There is no reason for me to want to leave!”

“Fine,” the sheriff agreed again. “I get confirmation from these people that you're all legal now and you'll be free to go. But in the meantime put your hands on the desk and let Charlie here search you.”

“Oh for Christ's sake...!” 

“Hands on the desk, Mr. Heyes!” Nugent repeated. “Now!”

Heyes glared at the sheriff, but seeing the steely determination that came back at him, he decided that there was more at stake here than just his pride. His aggressive stance softened and he did as instructed but inside the resentment still festered.

Charlie stepped forward and began a quick search, producing a neat little set of lock picks, a pocket watch, the hotel key, a wallet with folding money and then some loose coinage. The deputy stepped back.

“That's it Sheriff.”

Heyes watched as his personal belongings were laid out upon the desk and lawman began to scrutinize them. Nugent picked up the lock picks and Heyes' feelings of violation intensified. Was this never going to end? Was he never going to be able to leave his past behind and be treated as anything other than an outlaw? The fact that most of the time he was treated with the respect due an honest citizen did little to alleviate the insult when his word was not accepted.

“Interesting,” Nugent commented as he manipulated one of the slender tools around in his fingers. “Why would you need to carry these on you if you're all legal now?”

“Habit,” Heyes snarked.

“Uh huh. Alright. Here's paper and a pencil. Write your telegram.”

Heyes snatched the items and the thought of how quickly a pencil could be converted into a weapon flitted through his mind. He quickly disregarded it as being totally inappropriate and wrote out his message. The sheriff picked up the sheet of paper and read it out loud.

“'To Steven Granger, Denver Colorado. Detained in Yuma. Sheriff Nugent. Inform others. HH.' Who are the others?”

“Sheriffs Jacobs and Trevors, my partner Jed Curry, my benefactor Jesse Jordan. Warden Ken Reece,” Heyes informed him. “We might even be able to persuade Governor Warren to send you a note. Would that satisfy you?”

Nugent smiled, choosing to ignore Heyes' sarcasm.

“Every little bit would help. Charlie, escort our guest to his cell.”

“Yessir Sheriff.”

“Will someone please get a message to my wife?” Heyes requested as he allowed himself to be led over to the cells. “I expect she is still waiting for me at the hotel restaurant.”

“Of course,” Nugent agreed. “Charlie, you can do that on your way over to the telegraphers.”

“No problem Sheriff.”

The cell door clanged shut upon the prisoner and Heyes stood with his back to the company, his mood in a slow burn.

“Would you like that cup of coffee now Mr. Heyes?” Nugent called from his desk.

Silence.

Xxx

Miranda watched her husband leaving with the deputy and she felt dread descend upon her again. She could tell from his stiff back that Hannibal was fighting with his emotions and trying to remain calm and collected. Trying to behave like the honest citizen who had nothing to hide because, finally and after a long struggle, that was exactly who and what he was. But under these circumstances he was finding it difficult.

“Oh dear,” Miranda whispered to herself. She turned back to meet the enquiring gazes from her two companions. “I'm sure it's nothing,” she insisted as she put on a brave smile. “He'll rejoin us soon.”

“What's that all about?” Cedric asked. “Why would the sheriff want to see your husband?”

“I really don't know,” Miranda lied smoothly. “I'm sure it's nothing serious.”

“Looked serious enough to me,” Cedric continued. “For the sheriff's deputy to waltz right into the restaurant and insist your husband come with him? Any more serious and the deputy would have had his gun drawn.”

Miranda simply smiled and made no attempt to offer up any more reassurances. They finished their meals with idle conversation but her mind was not on the social gathering. Seeing her husband's dinner sitting there and getting cold only added to her consternation and her eyes were repeatedly drawn to the front entrance in hopes of seeing him return to them. By the time the waiter arrived at their table to clear away the supper detritus she had to accept the fact that things were not going well.

“Please leave my husband's meal here,” she instructed the waiter. “I'm hoping he will re-join us soon.”

“Yes of course Madam,” the waiter agreed as he released the plate from his fingers. The fine dinner had hardly been touched and he'd already had plans to treat himself to it once he was off duty. He tried not to let his disappointment show as he smiled down at the diners. Perhaps a generous tip was still in the making. “Coffee and sweets?” he asked them. “We have some lovely chocolate for your enjoyment.”

“Oh, chocolate!” Lois was ecstatic. “I can't remember the last time I had real chocolate.”

“You must watch your figure my dear,” Cedric reminded her. “Don't want you growing into your mother, now do we?”

“Chocolate would be lovely,” Miranda broke in as she no longer had any patience for Cedric's demeaning manner towards his wife. “Enough for four. And I'll certainly have a coffee.”

“Yes,” Cedric agreed, though slightly tight lipped. “We'll have coffee as well.”

“Very good,” the waiter nodded and pushing the small trolley of dishes along with him, he disappeared towards the kitchen.

Even Lois could pick up on the slight tension at the table now and did her best to lighten the mood.

“I'm so looking forward to our arrival in Santa Marta!” she gushed. “I do hope the coach ride down won't be too long. Especially in this heat.”

“I've never been,” Miranda commented politely, “but I don't believe it takes more than half a day from here. Santa Marta is right on the tip of the Golf of California. If the stage leaves at 10:00 a.m. I would expect to be there by late afternoon. I'm sure it will be well worth the journey.”

“If you even get there,” Cedric felt obliged to point out. “Might there be some reason why your husband cannot leave the country?”

“There shouldn't be,” Miranda assured him, though her own heart was in doubt. “If he does not rejoin us soon I will go and see what the problem is.”

Lois gasped in surprise and a hand came to her chest to calm her quickened heartbeat.

“A woman, walking into a sheriff's office?” she exclaimed. “Oh how daring! You are so brave!”

Coffees and desserts arrived and the diners busied themselves preparing their after dinner sweets. Miranda took four of the small chocolate squares but set them aside to enjoy with her husband. Her appetite for sweets had been smothered by the blanket of concern that had settled over her nerves. Adding some cream to her coffee she took a sip in the hopes of it calming her emotions. Feeling a little better, she smiled over at the young woman across from her and tried not to let the constant naivety wear on her nerves.

“There's nothing really daring about it,” she assured Lois. “They are simply officials who work for us. No need to feel intimidated.”

“Oh, I'm not intimidated by the lawmen!” Lois insisted. “They do a wonderful job for us all. Why the sheriff back in Castle Rock is the sweetest gentleman, isn't he Cedric?”

“Yes I suppose,” was Cedric's non-committal response.

“No, it's the other types you find in the sheriff's office that would bother me,” Lois explained. “You know; the outlaw element. Oh, my heart just flutters at the thought of actually running into a real outlaw. Thank goodness the west has been tamed.”

“There are still outlaws about Lois dear,” Cedric reminded her. “All the more reason why you need to stay close and not wander off on your own.”

And with this comment, a light came on in Cedric's eyes and he shot a glance over to their dining companion. Miranda prepared herself for the inevitable question when they were once again interrupted by the presence of the deputy.

“Mrs. Heyes?” he asked, looking directly at Miranda.

“Yes,” she answered, deliberately avoiding Cedric's gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Your husband wanted you ta' know that he's been detained.”

“Oh. For how long?”

The deputy shrugged. “Hard tellin',” he mumbled.

“I'm coming over,” Miranda announced. “Tell my husband I will be right there.”

“Fine,” came the casual response and Charlie turned to exit the establishment. He had his rounds to do.

Miranda again ignored her companions and beckoned the waiter over to their table.

“Yes ma'am?”

“It seems I must leave,” Miranda informed him. “Could you bill our supper to our hotel tab, please?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. And if you can bring me a second cup of coffee and a tray, please.”

“A tray?” The waiters brows went up.

“Yes,” Miranda clarified. “My husband has indeed been delayed so I will take his dinner to him. I will make sure the dishes are returned to you.”

“Oh. Of course ma'am.”

Miranda finally had no choice but to acknowledge her dining companions.

“I'm so sorry,” she told them. “It seems awfully rude to walk out on you like this, but as you can see; something has come up.”

“Yes of course,” Lois assured her. “I hope everything will be sorted out. I would so enjoy your company tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Miranda smiled at her. “I'm sure we'll see you in the morning. Oh, thank you.”

The waiter deposited the tray and a second cup of coffee at the table and made a discreet exit. Miranda added a touch of cream to the second cup then placing her cup and the plate of food and chocolate squares on the tray as well, she picked it all up and nodded to the young couple.

“Goodnight.”

Cedric actually had the decency to get to his feet and return the bidding.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” Lois waved her napkin as Miranda made her way towards the exit. “What a shame,” she continued. “I do hope all is well. They seem like such a nice couple.”

“I know the wife's name is Miranda,” Cedric pondered as he returned to his chair. “and didn't the husband introduce himself as Han?”

“Yes I believe so,” Lois concurred as she nibbled on some chocolate.

“And that deputy referred to both of them as 'Heyes'.”

“Hmm.”

Cedric sent a long suffering look over to his wife as she indulged in chocolate and sipped her coffee.

Xxx

Miranda stepped through the entrance of the sheriff's office and was instantly aware of the coolness of the interior. Too bad the hotel wasn't constructed in the same manner. Nugent glanced up from his paperwork and noting that the person who had entered his domain was of the female persuasion he quickly stood up and came around to offer assistance.

“Here, let me take that tray ma'am,” he offered and put action to words by relieving her of the tray and placing it on his desk.

“Thank you,” Miranda said. “I'm here looking for my husband. Your deputy told me that you were detaining him for some reason.”

“You're Mrs. Heyes?”

“Yes Sheriff. Is that a problem?”

“Oh excuse me, ma'am,” Nugent tipped his hat. “You're just not what I was expecting.”

“Really? What were you expecting?”

Nugent smiled. “Let's just say you're a pleasant surprise.”

Miranda nodded. “You summoned my husband here before he'd had a chance to finish his dinner,” she informed the lawman, giving him a reprimanding frown. “I'm sure you'll have no objection to him having it now.” She looked around the dusty office and the frown increased followed by a raised eyebrow. Her look to the sheriff was deliberately accusatory. “What have you done with him?”

“I'm over here!” came Heyes' voice from the cell block.

Miranda stepped further into the office until she could see him standing at the bars. He gave her a sardonic smile and a wave.

“You have arrested him?” Miranda accused the lawman. “Why!”

“Not arrested ma'am,” Nugent insisted. “Detained.”

“Fine!” Miranda was not in the mood for semantics. “Again; why? And for how long.”

Nugent shrugged. “Because of who he is and for as long as it takes to get confirmation that he has permission to leave the country.”

“But he has permission!” Randa insisted. “He's not on parole anymore. He can come and go...”

“Yes ma'am,” Nugent interrupted her. “I have already been through that with your husband. But until I get official confirmation, he is not leaving that cell. A telegram has been sent to his lawyer so with any luck we will hear back from that gentleman by morning. In the meantime, if you want to sit with him while he finishes his dinner you go right ahead. You'll cut up that steak here though and I'll get him a spoon. There's no way you're gonna be handing our guest a knife and fork. I'll bring a chair over for you.”

Miranda pursed her lips in irritation at what was to her a needless precaution. “Can I not go into the cell with...”

“No.”

With that the sheriff grabbed the extra chair by the door and carried it over to set down in front of Heyes' cell. Miranda sighed and quickly cutting up the food into bite size pieces, she accepted the offered spoon and then carried the fully loaded tray over to the cell block.

“Stay as long as you like,” Nugent told her. “but I'll be keeping an eye on you. And I'll be giving him a thorough search once you're gone so don't even think about trying to slip him anything.”

“Thank you Sheriff,” she commented dryly. “I'll keep that in mind.”

Nugent returned to his desk and Miranda placed the tray on the floor and handed the cup of coffee through the bars to her husband.

“Thank you,” Hannibal enthused as he slid the offered plate under the door of the cell. “I can really use this about now.”

“I bet,” Miranda agreed. “I brought us some chocolate as well, and some coffee. They may not calm your nerves but they taste good.”

Heyes nodded as he settled in to finish his supper. He was hungry.

“I'm sorry about this,” he mumbled over a mouth full.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” his wife assured him. “It's not your fault the legal system is behind the times. No wonder you and Jed ran rampant over them for so long.”

Heyes snorted into his coffee.

“Still,” he said as he wiped coffee off his nose. “The sheriff is right; I should have brought those documents with me. I just didn't think.”

“None of us did.”

“I'm sure Steven will get in touch as soon as he gets the telegram.”

“But where is he?” Randa asked. “Wasn't he going to attend Harry's wedding?”

Heyes frowned. “Oh yeah. What day is it?”

Miranda looked blank for a moment.

“Oh dear, I don't know.” She turned to the sheriff. “Do you know what day it is?”

Nugent looked at her from under his brows. 

“Monday.”

“No, the date.”

“Oh. The fifth.”

Randa nodded.

“So Harry's wedding would have been yesterday,” Heyes surmised. “I'm willing to bet that Steven and Bridget went home on the morning train so they should be there by now. He'll get my telegram and send confirmation by morning. We can still make the stage.”

“I hope you're right,” Randa agreed. “It's not so much for the stage, but more to get you out of here.”

“Hmm. Thought I was done with spending time in one of these things.”

“It won't be for long,” Randa assured him. “Steven will get onto this. You'll be released and we can be on our way.”

“I know,” Heyes agreed though his eyes still held an hint of worry. “You'll be alright tonight, at the hotel?”

“Of course,” she told him. “I'll miss you but we'll make up for it in Mexico.”

Heyes grinned. “Alright.”

The couple sat together and quietly conversed until Sheriff Nugent finally got to his feet and ambled over.

“I know I said you could stay as long as you liked, but I didn't mean all night,” he pointed out. “Best you be getting back to the hotel ma'am. My deputy will be checking in again in about fifteen minutes. He can escort you.”

“I know where the hotel is, Sheriff,” Randa assured him. “I don't think I'll need an escort.”

“Yes you do,” the sheriff insisted.

“Yeah you do,” Heyes seconded the sheriff's concern. “Yuma's a nice enough town during the daytime, but it's still a border town. You don't want to be out on the streets alone after dark.”

“Oh,” Miranda conceded the point. “Alright then. Sheriff, may I collect my husband's things? I'll need the hotel key at the very least.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Just come over to my desk when you're ready.”

“Thank you.”

Nugent returned to his station and Miranda returned her attention to her husband. Their hands sought out each other and they held on while they said their 'goodnights'.

“I'm sorry,” Hannibal said again. “This shouldn't have happened on our honeymoon.”

“It'll be fine,” Miranda assured him. “Try to relax and have a good night. I'll see you in the morning.”

Hannibal nodded and they risked a discreet kiss through the bars. One more quick squeeze to mutual hands and Miranda stood up. She collected the tray and empty dishes and made her way over to the desk.

“Can you have these dishes returned to the hotel restaurant?” she asked. “I assured the waiter I would make sure they would be.”

“Sure,” Nugent agreed. “One of the waitresses brings over breakfast for the prisoners anyway. She can take them back.”

“Fine.” Miranda's tone was clipped. The sheriff's terminology had not been lost on her and it was obvious that no matter how much he tried to sugarcoat it, her husband was indeed a prisoner here. 

Nugent went over to the safe and after quickly turning the combination, opened the door and pulled out Heyes' confiscated belongings.

“Here you are ma'am,” he said as he plunked them onto the desk. “everything we found on him.”

“Ah yes, good.” Miranda began to collect up her husband's possessions and put them in her belt purse. “Would you mind holding on to his handgun? I don't feel comfortable carrying it with me and you can return it to him in the morning.”

“That's fine,” the sheriff agreed, not surprised that this fine lady would have an aversion to weapons of such type. “He'll get it back when he's released.”

“Thank you.” Miranda stopped and frowned.

She went through the belongings again and pursed her lips. She racked her brain trying to remember the last time she had been aware of the case and silently kicked herself for not paying closer attention.

“Is something wrong ma'am?” Nugent asked her.

Miranda snapped her eyes up to meet his.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “but wasn't there another small silver case in his shirt pocket?”

“A silver case?” Nugent queried. “Like a cigarette holder?”

She smiled. “Yes, like that.”

“No ma'am. Just what you see here.”

Miranda sent a quick glance back to her husband. He was laying stretched out on the cot and trying to settle in for the night.

“Alright,” she said. “Thank you. Never mind.”

“Ah Charlie,” Nugent greeted his deputy as that man stomped in through the open front door. “Mrs. Heyes is ready to return to the hotel. Would you escort her there on your way home?”

“Yessir Sheriff, no problem.”

“Thank you. All quiet out there tonight?”

“So far, so good.”

“Good.”

xxx

Back in the hotel room Miranda went directly to her husband's carpet bag and pulled it up onto the bed. She rummaged through it, pulling out extra shirts, trousers and shaving gear. Two books came out, his gun cleaning kit and then finally, last but not least the small silver case that she sought. She snapped it open and stared for a moment at the contents.

Everything was there; the needle, the syringe and the vial. But the vial was empty. Had he used it and not told her? Or had the medicine simply expired and he hadn't gotten around to replacing the discarded contents yet? But here they were preparing to leave the country and not only was Hannibal not carrying the medication on his person as he was supposed to be doing, but he didn't even have a dosage handy if he were to need it.

She snapped the case shut again and sat down on the bed to consider her options. Two things were for sure; her cousin's husband would be hearing about this and Hannibal Heyes might just decide that a jail cell wasn't too bad a place to be after all.

 

To Be Continued


	6. Smoke Screen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jed and Kenny rush to save Jesse's life.
> 
> More problems for Heyes and Miranda in Yuma. Will they ever got on with their honeymoon?

Smoke Screen

 

Jed's eyes were red with the dry burning itch caused by the heavy smoke that now blanketed the landscape. The only way he could tell that Kenny was still with him was that he could hear his friend coughing and then only when Jed himself wasn't coughing so hard that he blocked the other man out.

Visibility was bad and it was only getting worse the closer they got to Bear Creak. The two draft horses continually snorted and tossed their heads in irritation at the smoke invading their nostrils and burning their eyes. The wet burlap wrapped around their muzzles was helping a little to make breathing easier but wasn't making a big enough difference for the horses to want to go further into the haze.

The two friends carried on, hoping that they were heading in the right direction. They knew that Jesse had left the western camp and was making his way east along the bank of the river. It then stood to reason that he would be somewhere in that two mile stretch between the two camps and that finding him, even under these challenging conditions should not be too difficult.

That's what they kept telling themselves. Soon it became obvious that reason would play no part in finding their friend. Landmarks were obscured, eyes itched and throats burned and progress was slow. If the two rescuers could have seen through the irritation and the heavy blanket of gray smoke that hindered their passage they would have seen yellow, orange and red flickers of light crackling atop the tree line along the far bank of Bear Creek.

The fire block was successful in stopping the actual flames from jumping across but with the soft summer breeze picking up, ashes from the burned out trees began their floating journey across the water. Most landed on damp soil or hard bark and slowly lost their spark but some found a green leaf or a piece of fern and life began to grow again. Slowly but surely the fire was getting a finger hold and it would not be long before it became a fist.

Kenny came up beside Jed and tapped him on the leg to get his attention.

“Where are we?” he choked out then coughed with the effort.

Jed shook his head. He knew where they were when they entered into the smoky blanket but even he was feeling turned around and couldn't even be sure if they were still heading towards the creek.

“JESSE!” he called and then coughed with the exertion. Even to him his voice sounded muffled and the sound of it hit a smoke wall that suffocated it before it could get two feet beyond him.

Frustrated with that attempt and getting no noticeable response from their quarry Jed pulled his gun and aiming it into the air, fired off two rounds. Both men sat silently for a moment, their ears straining to hear any indication of life coming back to them. They were about to give it up and push on when a sound finally did reach their ears and they pulled up to listen.

The distant sound stopped. Jed raised his gun and fired another shot. If they could just get their bearings, get a direction—something concrete and they might stand a chance.

The sound came to them again and this time they both turned their heads towards it.

“Is that what I think it is?” Kenny croaked out.

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “Damned if it ain't. I'd recognize Ellie's bark anywhere. That's gotta be her.”

Both men turned their reluctant horses towards the distant sound and pushed them into a heavy trot. It was hard work as the horses didn't want to continue on this path but the men had a direction now and a renewed sense of purpose so they pushed the horses to comply. And they went, heads shaking and nostrils snorting in protest, but they went.

Twenty minutes of picking their way through the underbrush finally found them navigating around stacked piles of branches and foliage that had been ripped away from the river bank. Felled trees slowed down their progress but also gave them hope that they were entering into the work area. They were getting close as the heat from the approaching fire burned against their skin and throats shrivelled with the acrid smoke that they had no choice but to breathe in to protesting lungs.

Jed thought fleetingly that this had been a bad summer for fires. First Devil's Hole and now this. Would his lungs ever recover from the battering they had taken? At least Heyes missed out on this little BBQ; he always did have great timing! Then his mind came back to the job at hand.

The horses came to a halt on the bank of the river and the men looked up to find themselves at the end of their territory. They could now see the fire consuming the trees along the far bank, the crackling loud in their ears as whole branches burst into flames and fell sizzling into the waters of the creek and floated there burning on the surface to light the way for more to follow.

Jed felt a searing burn on his right hand and instantly brushed away the leaf of ash that had landed there.

“Geesh!” he complained. “We gotta find Jesse fast.”

“What?” Kenny asked over the crackling of the fire.

Jed raised his voice, “Find Jesse—fast!” Then started coughing with the effort.

Giving his burning eyes another wipe with his now dry bandana, he once again pointed his gun into the air and fired off a shot.

Instantly a dog's strained and panicked barking responded from their immediate vicinity and turning the horses to their left, they once again pushed the animals into a trot and reentered the cluttered tree line.

Barely able to see two feet ahead of them, they might very well have ridden on past the prone man if Ellie hadn't started barking again. The relief in her tone was undeniable but so was the strain. What sound she could get out now was high pitched and barely audible. She began coughing and retched for the umpteenth time but nothing was coming up now. So much of the hydration in her body was being sucked out by the heat and smoke of the fire, but she would not surrender her post.

Kenny and Jed slid off their horses and stumbled over to the dog and the unconscious man she was protecting. Jesse was lying on his back and Ellie lay across his throat, the fur on her body acting as a filter and preventing much of the smoke from getting through and into Jesse's lungs. Her tail thumped in ecstatic greeting as she tried to voice her welcome but her throat was so dry and raw that all that came out was a high pitched grating sound. Jed knelt down beside her and felt her dry tongue attempt to lick his hand.

“That's okay girl,” he praised her. “You did a good job.” He opened his canteen and pouring water into his cupped hand, he offered her a drink but she would not, or could not lap it up. He doused her then with water from the canteen, wetting down her face, trying to get moisture into her eyes and nose and down her gullet. She coughed and retched it back up, unable to get the life-giving water down past the swelling in her throat.

Kenny was there then and between the two of them, they gently lifted the dog off her master and laid her down beside him. Too weak to stand but not willing to give up her sentry, she still stretched out her front legs and pawed at the motionless body.

Jed instantly had an ear down on Jesse's chest and a hand resting on his torso. He sat up and nodded.

“He's still breathing,” he announced with relief. “but I don't know how badly hurt he is.”

“He's got a head wound,” Kenny confirmed as he wiped blood off his hand. “It's impossible to know here what else is wrong. One things for sure; we gotta get him out of here.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed and coughed again to emphasize the point. “but how? I'm scared to move him. What if he's busted up inside? That horse he was riding might have trampled him for all we know. We move him he just might make it worse.”

Kenny allowed his eyes to flicker towards the oncoming flames.

“How much worse can it get?” he asked. “We can't stay here Jed. We have to take the chance and move him. There's plenty of pre-cut branches here. We have rope and blankets, we can make a travois and a harness for one of the horses. It'll be rough, but we gotta get out of here!”

“You're right,” Jed agreed. “I just hope Sam is coming back with a wagon. It'll be darn near impossible getting Jesse back to town if'n he don't show.”

Kenny gave Jed a pat on the shoulder then stood up and moved to a barely discernible pile of debris in order to gather some branches long enough for their purpose.

Jed poured water onto Jesse's dry bandana and tied it securely around the lower half of his father-in-law's face hoping that any little difference might help. He returned to his horse and grabbing one of the blankets proceeded to get Jesse rolled onto it and hoped he wasn't causing even more internal damage by doing so.

Ellie was making things difficult. She trusted Jed, had known him all her life and considered him a member of her pack and that was the only reason she allowed him to take over. She didn't have the strength left to stand but she insisted on being a part of the rescue mission. She knew all about the 'paws off' rule but she chose to ignore it under these circumstances and at least one of her paws continued to rest upon Jesse's arm throughout this whole endeavour. When she could she lay her head across his throat and would whine anxiously every time Jed had to move her in order to prepare Jesse for the homeward journey.

Jed worked quickly, laying the blanket out and gently rolling Jesse over onto it and he had just finished wrapping the loose ends together when a sudden commotion caught his attention. A pitiful choking squeal attacked his ears and Kenny fell back with a curse as what he thought had been another pile of debris suddenly erupted from the ground and sent him sprawling. A beat later and both men recognized the flailing shape of a downed horse as poor Ginger came to life and fought to get to her feet.

She squealed again as her smoke-blurred form was powered up by her hind legs, then collapsed down into the ground again as her shattered forelegs refused to do her bidding. Her hind legs thrashed and she struggled until coughing and weakness forced her to sink down and give up the fight. She groaned pitifully and harsh coughing racked her body again as she struggled to breathe.

Kenny dragged himself to his feet, clutching his left arm and he scrambled back over to the horse He moved in behind the mare where her thrashing hind legs couldn't get him. He put a hand on her neck and spoke softly to her though it came out sounding harsh even to him. Still it seemed to calm the animal and as he continued to stroke her, he pulled his gun, pressed it against the back of her skull and pulled the trigger.

She grunted once in surprise, gave a final kick and sank over onto her side. Kenny gave her one more stroke on the neck and returned to help Jed get a travois ready.

“Jeez,” Jed mumbled. “Was that Sam's mare?”

“I don't know,” Kenny admitted, feeling shaken. “I couldn't tell.”

“Damn!” Jed jumped up and quickly brushed hot ash off his hands. “We gotta go! Wish we hadn't pulled the harness off those horses, but the rope's gonna havta' do the job now.”

“If you'll use the rope to make a quick hammock between the poles, I'll make a breast strap or something to secure the travois to the horse,” Kenny told him. “It won't take long!”

Jed started to cough but he nodded his understanding. They moved quickly as more and more ash drifted across the creek and though most was still landing and dying, occasionally one would take hold and begin to feed on the scraps of foliage that was still lying along the creek bank. Most of those small fires burned themselves out as they devoured their meagre food supply but all it would take would be a gust of wind to pick up one of those burning leaves and drop it where the food was abundant and then the battle would begin all over again.

Both men and horses were coughing and eager to get underway. Within minutes the rough conveyance was ready to go. The long poles from downed trees were rough and still held twigs and leaves but they would suffice as an emergency travois. With some difficulty, Kenny tired the two together at one end and allowed the poles to extend out in an A-frame from over the horse's withers. It took a little longer to sort out the rope mattress and the restless horses weren't helping. Visibility was practically none existent and throats were so raw from smoke and coughing that talking became impossible. Still, they got the job done. 

They carefully lifted Jesse onto the travois and Ellie, scared that she was going to be left behind began to whine harshly, forcing the sound out from her raw and swollen throat. She tried to stand but her legs wobbled and gave out beneath her as her body refused to give any more. Jed knelt down behind her and after gently lifting her in his arms, he placed her on the wider end of the travois, between her master's legs.

It was then that he noticed blood soaking into his shirt sleeves. He took a quick moment to give Ellie a more thorough examination and discovered the sticky, oozing wound that ran along the full length of her ribcage. Ellie whined and again attempted to lick his hand as he settled her back down on the travois. He stroked her gently on her head and gave the ears an affectionate scratching. Content with where she was, she settled her head down on her master's thigh and waited for her journey to begin.

Kenny had laid out another blanket and was dousing it with water. Once the two passengers were settled, he tried to spread the blanket over top the of them but his left arm was not cooperating and Jed gave Ellie one final pat and came to Kenny's assistance. Hot ashes were becoming more and more prevalent and Ellie managed a harsh yelp as one landed on her fur and began to burn. It was quickly brushed off and the wet blanket settled over the top of the two casualties to prevent further injury but still giving them both room to breathe.

The two tethered horses were more than just anxious now. The hot ash was also landing on their hides and only expertly handled tails and sensitive twitching skin prevented them from getting seriously burned. But they were antsy and jostling around in an effort of avoid the flying flakes. Jed and Kenny wasted no time in getting the horses ready to go. 

Taking the unencumbered horse in hand, Jed led him to the rear of the travois, drawing out the long lines of the harnessed horse as he went. The ground was far too rough and debris covered for the travois to travel smoothly so both men picked up the end of the conveyance and the procession moved out.

The going was not easy. Visibility was almost nonexistent and everyone was coughing and retching from the heavy smoke. The heat was unbearable, but bear it they did because they had no other choice but both men could feel the bare skin on wrists above their gloves and on their faces above the bandanas begin to blister. Even the skin that was covered by clothing that could not stay wet long enough, was heating up and felt like it was being burned right off their bones.

Keeping the horses going back towards the fire had been a challenge. If they hadn't needed both men to carry the end of the travois over the uneven littered ground one of them could have gone ahead and led the harnessed animal towards the creek. But as it was, all they could do was yell harshly between coughing fits and keep the horse's head aimed in the right direction. The horse himself quickly became confused and didn't know which way was which but then they had the other problem of keeping the animal from bolting. The desire to run was strong in all of them, but Jed kept control not only of his own panic but that of the two horses as well. With his left hand carrying one end of the travois and his right holding on to the lines of both horses, he managed to keep the animals under reasonable control and prevent them from in effect, killing them all.

The lead animal stumbled to his knees more than once by trying to rush through the thick underbrush and then decided for himself that he should take things more cautiously. Jed couldn't have been more thankful as he was having a hard enough time keeping his own feet. He felt rather than saw Kenny stumbling and coming down to his knees more than once. The curses that forced their way through his parched throat bespoke pain just as much as frustration and Jed fleetingly worried about his injury.

It took a precious ten minutes of struggle and yelling to finally reach the bank of the creek but it was so dark and unrecognizable that it was only the change in the footing that let the men know they had gotten clear of the woods. Turning the lead horse to the right, they then hurried along at a fast jog until they came to the access road that would lead them out of the forested area and onto the grasslands.

Kenny fell again and this time he went all the way down, taking his end of the travois with him. He landed with a grunt and struggled to get up while Jed pulled back on the lines to bring the horses to a halt. He dare not let the animals loose because he know that once they felt themselves free they would bolt for home but he did come back to Kenny as far as he could to try and help.

“Kenny! You okay?”

“Yeah...” came the choking response. “I think my arm is broken but I can manage. Let's go.”

“If it's broke we should tend to it.”

“We don't have time!” Kenny insisted as he got back into position and picked up his end. “Let's go.”

“No!” Jed was adamant. “The road is fairly level, we don't need to hold this up anymore, it can drag. C'mon! I'll help ya' up on the harness horse and we can ride now. Can't go too fast, but at least faster than this!”

Kenny recognized the wisdom of that course of action. He nodded and set the travois pole down. Moving up to the side of the harness horse, Kenny grabbed a handful of mane and Jed grabbed his friend's knee and gave him a boost. Kenny gasped with pain as his left arm was pressed into the horse's hide but he managed to stay conscious and swing his right leg over the broad back.

Jed gathered up the lines and handed them over. He organized the lines of the second horse and getting a good grasp he swung himself aboard and they were off again. Kenny stayed in the lead, doing his best to hang on and not let the horse get going any faster than a trot while Jed swung around and brought up the rear, keeping an eye on the travois and its cargo. Nothing under the blanket was moving.

Even on the relatively level road and open country the ride was a rough one. Jed feared that they might be doing more harm than good to their passenger and decided that a change of plans was in order. He pushed his horse to come level with his companion.

“Hold up Kenny,” he said hoarsely. “We can't carry on like this.”

Kenny didn't hear him and kept right on going. Jed grabbed the horse's bridle and brought him to a stop then caught Kenny as he began to slide from the animal's back. The sudden jolt caused Kenny to jerk awake and he peered over at his friend through dry, red rimmed eyes.

“Kenny, you alright?” Jed asked even though his friend certainly didn't look alright.

Kenny nodded and sat up straighter, preparing to carry on.

“No you're not!” Jed insisted and he slid down off his own horse and went to Kenny's side. “Stop.”

“Got to keep going,” Kenny whispered through his swollen throat. “Got to get back.”

“Just wait a minute,” Jed told him. “We're alright here for a few minutes. C'mon let me take a look at ya'.”

It didn't take much effort on Jed's part to get Kenny off the horse. One slight tug on his friend's belt and the older man was sliding down and with Jed's arms assisting him, he sank to the ground and sat still, trying to get air into his lungs.

Jed opened a canteen and pulled Kenny's bandana down from his face. He pressed the spout to the dry lips and tipped water into the mouth. Kenny tried to take it in but he choked and started coughing even more.

Jed gave him a break and tried to get water down his own throat but only ended up choking it back up again himself. Soaking both their bandana's he pushed Kenny's into his mouth and indicated for him to keep it there.

“Suck on that,” he suggested “Maybe that'll help.”

Kenny nodded. Jed did the same with his own bandana and found that the moisture did help a bit to ease the parched condition of his mouth and throat. He still had a hard time swallowing, but it was a start.

“Let me check up on Jesse,” he croaked out. “Then I'll see what I can do about your arm.”

Kenny nodded his understanding and Jed sidled over to the travois. He was afraid to lift the blanket. Afraid that his father-in-law was already dead. Afraid to discover that the rough trip out of the woods had punctured a lung or destroyed an already injured spine. But he had to look, he knew he did, so steeling his nerves for the worst he lifted the blanket and put an ear to Jesse's chest. 

At first he couldn't hear or feel anything and his heart sank but then a quiet rasping caught his attention. Short and shallow breaths being dragged down a swollen throat and forced into parched lungs was the most that Jed could have hoped for.

He sat back, almost trembling with relief. Taking the third bandana he soaked that one the same way he had the others and forced the sodden material into Jesse's mouth. Anything now just to get some moisture into the abused throat might be all he needed, might be all everyone needed to make it back to town and real medical care.

Rolling the now bone dry blanket further off Jesse, Jed laid a hand on Ellie's rib cage and put an ear to her girth just behind the front leg. He creased his brow in concern and pulled up her lip to check the color of her gums and then lifted an eyelid. His shoulders slumped. He sat back and gave the faithful dog a gentle pull on the ears and scratch on the head. She was gone.

Jed pulled the blanket back over Ellie but left it off Jesse now. They were away from the heat and ash of the fire and the protection of the blanket was no longer needed. Smoke was still heavy in the air and the threat of the fire continuing to spread was very real but they were at least out of immediate danger.

They had left the axes and shovels back at the accident site but Jed still had a small knife with him and taking it he cut two wide stripes off the blanket. This done, he crawled back to where Kenny was still sitting and waiting for him.

“Jesse's still with us,” Jed informed him. “but he's weak and having trouble breathing.”

Kenny rolled his eyes in simpatico then regretted the gesture when the movement caused his dry and irritated eyes to grate painfully. He was at least, actually able to swallow, proving that the wetted bandana was helping their situation. Jed nodded in silent agreement when he saw Kenny flinch with pain then set about making the rough sling for Kenny's arm.

“Here, let me see,” Jed said as he carefully unbuttoned Kenny's shirt and pulled the material away from the injury. 

Kenny gasped then coughed then gasped again with the pain the coughing caused. Jed waited until he stopped then carried on with his examination.

“From past experience I'd say your collar bone is broken,” Jed informed him then coughed himself as his throat began to dry out again. 

He lifted the canteen to his lips and experimented with a sip. Much to his surprise he was actually able to swallow the liquid. It felt like drinking broken glass and his whole face contorted with the pain but at least he was getting something down. He took another sip, swirled it around in his mouth and forced himself to swallow again.

Kenny looked concerned then perturbed as Jed lifted the canteen up to his lips and encouraged him to take a sip himself. He drew some in and tentatively swallowed then choked and spluttered but was still able to get some down. Jed offered him another sip and he nodded acquiescence and the second sip went down better.

Jed put the sling over Kenny's head and gently settled the now useless limb into the cradle, then he wrapped the second strip of material around the arm and tied it snug behind Kenny's back, securing the arm and the broken collar bone in place. Kenny grimaced with the pain it caused but he gritted his teeth and held on. Once the arm was secured he had to admit that it felt better. Not great, but better.

 

“Tip your head back,” Jed told his friend. 

Ken frowned but did as Jed suggested. Coming in closer with the canteen again, Jed raised it above Kenny's eyes and slowly poured a small amount down onto the burning orbs. Kenny blinked then squinted but some of the moisture did get into his eyes and created some relief even if it was temporary.

“Thanks,” Kenny croaked out. “Here, let me help you.”

Jed handed him the canteen and Ken did his best to execute the same treatment. Jed felt some of the soothing liquid penetrate the grit and soot in his eyes and he nodded his thanks.

“Think you can still ride?” Jed asked him.

Kenny nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped out but at least he was actually able to say it.

Jed stood up and helped Kenny to his feet. Moving up against the harness horse again they went through the same procedure as before and Kenny was able to swing his leg across the broad back once again and got himself settled and ready to go.

Jed then went to each of the horses and offered them what was left of the water in the canteens. He had to use his hat as a cup for them and very little of the precious liquid had a chance to soak into the felt. Big dry muzzles competed with each other to push into the hat and suck up the precious water. But even though the two horses were best buddies, when it came to a situation like this, their true natures came out.

One of the big animals pinned back his ears and snapped at his team-mate. That horse instantly backed off, respecting the pecking order while mouthing in a sucking motion as he watched the more dominant horse get first dibs. The second horse needn't have worried though as Jed did his best to ensure that each horse got an equal share even though he knew it wasn't enough to satisfy their thirst. Hopefully it would hold them until more was forthcoming. He prayed that Sam was coming back for them and that he would be bringing water with him.

He slung the empty canteens back over his shoulder and with a worried glance towards the smoke covered landscape behind them, he grabbed a handful of mane and hauled himself up onto his horse. 

The two horses were eager to be going again and picked up the trot instantly. They were exhausted and thirsty but thoughts of a full water trough and soft straw beckoned them. With their noses pointed towards home and a sampling of water in their throats, they felt rejuvenated and they didn't need the humans on their backs to tell them it was time to go.

They carried on at a trot for fifteen minutes before Kenny could finally stand it no longer. He pulled rein bringing his reluctant horse to a halt and sat with his forehead resting against the mane.

“Kenny!” Jed pushed up beside him and put a hand on his arm. “You alright?”

This time Kenny made no beans about it and he shook his head. Forcing himself to sit up straighter he looked Jed in the eye and shook his head again.

“You go on ahead,” he gasped out between spasms of pain. “I can't keep on at this pace.”

“I'm not leavin' ya' out here alone,” Jed told him. “We'll ride double. It's nothin' ta' these big fellas.”

Kenny shook his head again. “No. You'll make better time on your own. Go find Sam and bring him back to us. It'll be faster.”

Jed hesitated. He didn't like this plan at all but he had to admit it made sense. If Sam was out here it wouldn't take Jed long to find him and if he wasn't out here then Jed could make the run into town to get more help. It was the logical thing to do, yet Jed still hesitated. He didn't like leaving a man behind.

“Go,” Kenny croaked out. “You're wasting time.”

Jed sighed. “Damn,” he mumbled under his breath. Then he gave Kenny's arm another squeeze. “Alright. I'll find help Ken. I'll get back here as quickly as I can.”

Kenny just nodded again. Jed turned his horse away and pushed him into a lumbering canter in the direction of the meeting place. Sam had better be there. They had to get Jesse under David's care as quickly as possible and now it looked like Kenny was in dire straits as well. Jed was not willing to even contemplate losing two of his friends today.

Xxx

The afternoon was waning and Jed was becoming even more anxious with the possibility that he had missed Sam on this wide expanse of range land. The smoke was less dense here and Jed assumed that he would be able to see for miles around him but this was not the case. Though not heavily blanketed in smoke there was still a hazy fog obscuring visibility and he and Sam could easily have passed one another.

Another worry wiggled its way into Jed's chest as the one thing he didn't want to consider was becoming more and more pressing in his thoughts. That Sam hadn't been able to secure a wagon to come back to meet them. That perhaps Jacobs or maybe even David had decided that it was too risky. Maybe Jed was out here all alone.

Then he heard it; the jingling of harness and the loud rumbling of wagons coming towards him. Once his attention was caught by the sounds, he cursed himself for not seeing the teams of horses coming towards him sooner than he did. By the time the noise reached his ears, the driver of the foremost wagon was pulling his team to a halt and the other wagons were pulling up beside him.

“Hey mister!” the driver called out to him. “What are you doin' out here all on yer lonesome? It ain't safe, ya' know.”

“Yeah, I kinda' got that figured for myself,” Jed responded, then coughed harshly for a moment. “I'm tryin' to meet up with Sam Jefferies. Have ya' seen 'em?”

“Don't even know who he is,” came back the caustic remark. “We're out here to make sure that fire don't jump the break.”

Jed nodded, relieved on the one hand but even more concerned on the other.

“We just come from that direction,” he informed the driver as he pointed back over his trail. “The fire ain't jumped the break yet, but ash is getting across. Little fires were tryin' ta' get started when we got out'a there. It's like hell on earth. We just barely got out in time. You won't be able to breathe in there.”

“Sure we will!” came the response from the driver's seat, and all the fellas in the bed of the wagon nodded and held up a strange apparatus. “These mask things just come in from Denver. It helps ya' ta' breathe in smoke and all that. We'll be fine.”

“I ain't so sure I'd trust that,” Jed looked at the contraptions with scepticism. “You sure you boys wanna risk your lives on that? What if they don't work?”

“It's worth a try!” came the response from the wagon bed. “I got my own spread outside a' Denver. If there's a chance we can stop this fire in it's tracks then I'm all fer it.”

“Okay,” Jed shrugged then coughed again. Once he got his breath back, he gestured toward the way he had come. “but I got a couple 'a friends over that way who need help. Once you drop these boys off and you're headed back, I'd be much obliged if'n ya' keep an eye out for 'em, give 'em a lift into town if I don't get back to 'em.”

“I'll try mister. No guarantees though. If'n they's friends 'a yurs, how come yer leavin' 'em out here?”

Jed felt irritation rising at the suggestion that he was shirking his duty, though most of that was brought on by his own feelings of guilt over that very question.

“Jefferies was suppose ta' come out ta' meet us!” he explained snarkily. “I'm lookin' for 'im.”

“Yeah? Well good luck mister. And in the mean time I'm wastin' time settin' here jawin' with you!” the driver snarked and stood up from his seat and waved over at the other wagons. “C'mon fellas! We got us a job ta' do. Cam, you and Bruce head over to the east more. Hans, you and Fritz keep on going straight. Levi, looks like we got work over this-a-way. Let's go boys!”

The enthusiastic relief crews sent up a cheer and the wagons were whipped up into a fast lope towards their destinations. Jed's tired draft horse perked up a bit as the loud wagons rumbled past him, and Jed had to take hold of him and keep him aimed in the desired direction. Jed's relief at more crews coming out to take care of the lingering threat was short lived, as concern over his personal mission took over again.

Where was Sam?

He pushed the horse up into a slow canter again and continued on towards town.

Xxx

It was a good thing that Kenny was astride a wide backed draft horse because otherwise he would have slid off that animal some time ago. His eyes were so irritated that he couldn't keep them open anymore and his breath came in ragged gasps punctuated by coughing and dry heaving that produced nothing but grayish coloured blood. His fracture, though stabilized by his arm being snugly to his chest ached unmercifully until he coughed, then piercing daggers of pain shot through him and he thought for sure he was going to pass out.

He was hardly aware of the fact that his horse had stopped. The animal raised his head and his ears and he gazed hopefully into the swirling smoke that persisted in hindering them. The horse flared his nostrils, then shook his head and snorted, then coughed as he drew smoke into his already burning lungs. He licked his lips, trying to get moisture onto them, and then sent out a pathetic whinny towards the sound he knew so well.

The big draft began to walk again, then to trot as he could hear other horses coming towards him. Kenny was jolted back to full consciousness and forced himself to sit up and peer into the gray surrounding him. He tried to pull the horse back down to a walk, not only for Jesse's sake but for his own, as he feared the rough gait would unseat him.

Then he forced his eyes open as he too could hear the sounds of approaching wagons and horses and he thought that they had been saved. The fact that the two draft teams and the wagons full of men they were hauling simply came into view and rattled and clattered their way past was too surreal for his clouded mind to accept.

Yells of encouragement and advice were sent his way as the relief crews lumbered by, and then they were gone, the sight and the sound of them diminishing into the distance and being swallowed up by the swirling haze.

Both man and horse stood in disbelief and then wondered if those wagons had actually been there at all. Maybe they had simply seen an hallucination; the smoke and the heat and the pain playing tricks on their minds. But they'd both seen them. Surely the horse wouldn't have imagined that. In Kenny's weakened state he finally simply accepted what was, and closing his eyes, he leaned down again against the wide comfortable neck. The horse took this as permission to carry on and he again began to walk in the direction of town.

Xxx

Jed hadn't gone on much further when his burning eyes thought they could see something in the distance. He rubbed them then grimaced over the scratching fire that only made it worse. He peered into the distance and felt sure he could actually see something. He pushed the tired gelding into a trot and covered the distance between themselves and the four-seater surrey coming towards them.

Monty was giving it everything he had. Right from the moment he was brought in from the field and harnessed up again, he knew that he was on a special mission. With head up and eyes rolling white, he pawed the ground in anticipation yet waited in place while his attire was all set in place.

Sam settled into the seat and picked up the lines, keeping the eager little pacer contained while supplies and Harry joined the party. Monty knew Sam and was confident with this person holding the lines. He knew that nothing bad would happen to him and that he could trust Sam to get him safely to and from wherever it was they were going.

Once they had left the confines of the town behind them and the lines directed him towards the fire, the little gelding blew out his anxiety and felt the urge to ignore the request being put to him. He didn't want to go back out towards that nasty smoke odour, but his trust in the human handling the lines dictated that he had to go. Once it was established, Monty took the bit between his teeth and picked up the ground covering pace he had become known for in this county. He didn't know where they were going but he was determined to make sure they all got there fast.

Sam spotted Jed lumbering towards them and turned Monty's head in that direction. The gelding pricked his ears and whinnied a greeting which sounded to Jed like the the best sound he'd heard all his life. Relief washed over him as the two parties met and came to a halt.

“Jeeze Kid, you're lookin' a sorry sight,” Harry commented as he handed his friend a water canteen. “Why, I wouldn't even 'a recognized ya' if it weren't for the horse you're ridin'.”

“Well you ain't lookin' much better Harry,” Jed croaked out after wetting his throat with the water. “but I sure am glad to see you fellas! I was gettin' worried.”

“Sorry,” Sam apologized through his own frustration. “I couldn't find a horse and wagon or at least not one that Jacobs would let me use. What's wrong? Why are you on your own? Did you find Mr. Jordan?”

Jed coughed then swallowed to help formulate his words. 

“Yeah we found Jesse, but he's bad hurt. Not even sure how bad. Kenny broke his collar bone so neither of 'em could travel that fast.” Jed explained and took another drink of water. “I thought it would be faster if I came on ahead to find ya'. I was gettin' scared that I might'a missed ya. Come across the work wagons headin' back out there but they had other things to do.”

“Are you alright to take us back to them?” Sam asked, his look full of concern. “You look done in.”

Jed nodded. “I'll take ya',” he insisted. “Can't risk you missin' 'em. I don't think either one of 'em could make it back to town on their own.”

“Dammit!” Sam cursed. “I should 'a got out here sooner. C'mon Monty! Let's go!”

Monty perked up when he heard his name and felt the lines become animated again. Without further encouragement from Sam, he picked up his pace again and eagerly followed the big draft horse back along the same track that horse had just laid down.

Jed's heart was again in his throat at the sight that met his eyes. Kenny's horse was standing still, and as the rescue party got closer they could see the motionless form of the prison warden lying on the ground. He had fallen on the reins and the draft horse had willingly come to a halt to await whatever help might come their way.

Jed pushed his tired horse into a faster trot and slid to the ground before the animal could come to a full stop. He was on his knees beside his friend and gently rolled him over onto his back and put an ear to his chest. He sighed with relief when he picked up the strong heart beat and he realized that Kenny had simply passed out due to the heat and his injury.

“Kenny?” Jed called to him and gave his face a gentle pat but got no response.

“Here, Kid,” Harry offered as he handed him the canteen. “maybe he just needs some water.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Jed took the offering, and after untying Kenny's bandana, he soaked it in water and began to bathe his friend's face. Jed would hardly have recognized him even after he'd been able to clean away the dirt and soot from his features. His skin was red from heat burns and from numerous bruises that would soon be turning black and blue, and Jed fleetingly wondered if he himself looked as dishevelled and toasted as his companion.

“Kenny,” he called his name again. “C'mon Ken, wake up.”

Kenny groaned as the cooling water on his face began to revive him. He shifted slightly then groaned again with the pain the movement caused him. Finally his eyelids fluttered and they opened to slits.

“Looks like he's awake,” Harry stated unnecessarily. “We better get these boys back to town.” 

Jed smiled.

“Hey Kenny,” he said. “We're good. I got Sam and Harry with me and they brought the surrey with 'em. We'll get you and Jesse back to town real quick now. Can ya' sit up?”

“Yeah, I think,” Kenny croaked out, and with Jed on one side and Harry on the other they helped to get him upright.

“Here,” Jed offered the canteen. “Have some water.”

Kenny accepted the drink and was able to get a good portion of it down his throat.

“Thanks,” he said with a little more ease this time. He looked around and noticed Sam down by the travois trying to cool Jesse down with his own share of water. “We need to get going. I shouldn't have passed out like that. We would have met up sooner if I had kept going.”

Jed smiled at Kenny's self-reprimand.

“Don't worry about it. It won't make that much difference.”

 

Xxx

 

Sam pulled Monty to a stop and applied the brake. He grabbed one of the canteens and seeing that Jed was already tending to Kenny, ran over to his boss and prayed that the still form lying on the travois was still alive. Jesse looked terrible, not only from the effects of being out in that hostile environment for longer than what was healthy, but also from the strain of his injuries.

Sam carefully pulled the blanket back, noting that Jesse was still breathing though it was shallow and laboured. He didn't dare move him, not knowing the extent of his injuries but, he did start to give him the same water treatment Jed was giving to Ken. Unfortunately, Sam didn't get the same results Jed had and Jesse remained unconscious and unresponsive.

Sam pulled the blanket back a bit more to see if he could discern the injuries, but instead found himself staring at the still form of Ellie. He knew in an instant that she was gone, and his heart broke. He investigated further and found the blood-caked gash left by the cougar's defensive actions and his eyes burned with tears he could not shed.

“Ellie...” he whispered to her as he stroked her quiet head. “What a good dog.”

His mourning was interrupted when he noticed Jed and Harry helping Kenny to his feet. Sam replaced the blanket, stood up and joined them.

“How are we going to do this?” Sam asked. “I'm scared to move Mr. Jordan.”

“We gotta move 'im if we're going to get him into town,” Harry announced. “What else can we do?”

“We don't need to lift him off the travois,” Jed advised. “we can loosen some of the bindings to narrow it and lift the whole thing on the bed of the surrey and slide it along under the seats.” 

“I can help,” Kenny offered.

“No ya' can't,” Jed informed him. “We'll get you settled into a seat and that's where you'll stay.”

“You giving me orders now Jed?” Kenny challenged him.

“Yeah I am,” Jed insisted. “You ain't at the prison now, Kenny. You're out here in my territory, and I'm the boss. You got a bang on the head, a broken collar bone and ya' can't even stand up on yer own. You ain't in no position ta' argue with me.”

Kenny gave a weak smile.

“Yeah, I think you're right,” Kenny accepted that. “I think I need to sit down.”

Jed nodded and he and Harry assisted Kenny up into the conveyance and got him settled. Jed turned back to help with Jesse and got hit by a dizzy spell. He grabbed hold of the side of the surrey, and that was all that stopped him from dropping to his knees. Now it was Jed's turn for a reprimand as Sam and Harry turned on him.

“I think it best that you take a seat now too, Jed,” Sam suggested. “You look done in.”

“No more'n anybody else,” Jed countered. “I'm fine.”

“How long you been awake?” Sam asked him.

Jed shrugged. “I donno. Besides, Harry's been up just as long as I have. He's doin' alright.”

“Yeah, but I haven't breathed in as much smoke as you have Kid,” Harry pointed out. “I don't think you know how awful you look,”

Sam snorted. “I don't think you know how awful you look,” he said to Harry. 

Harry bolstered himself up.

“Why I'm fit as a fettle,” he insisted. “I could keep on goin' for at least another day.”

“And you're just tryin' to impress your future in-laws,” Sam countered him. “But in the meantime, we're wasting time. Jed, you stay in the surrey with Mr. Reece. Harry you help me get Mr. Jordan settled in. After that, Harry, since aside from me you seem to be in the best shape, you can drive them into town. I'll bring in the two draft horses. They're lookin' pretty done in and Monty will make better time on his own.” Sam's expression turned thoughtful as something that had been nagging at him could no longer be contained. “Anyone know what happened to my horse? Jesse borrowed her, so I was just wondering...” he stopped as he noted both Jed and Kenny avoiding his eyes. “What happened?”

“I'm sorry, Sam,” Jed finally owned up. “She was in bad shape when we found them. We couldn't see much in that smoke but it looked like she broke her forelegs. We had to shoot her.”

“I shot her,” Kenny put in, taking full responsibility.

Jed sighed and looked back into the pain-filled eyes of Ginger's owner.

“I'm sorry Sam,” he said. “but it had to be done.”

Sam simply nodded then turned to walk back to the travois. Jed and Harry exchanged a quick look and Harry went to assist with getting the travois and its precious cargo lifted on board.

Xxx

Getting down David's hallway was a challenge unto itself. Many who were out of danger had been transplanted to other establishments, but those who still needed a watchful eye were laid out wherever there was room. Trish looked up at her husband's entrance, and her eyes widend with concern when she noticed their cargo. Without wasting a beat she rushed ahead of them and nipped through the door to the examination room to ensure her husband would have everything he needed for an exam.

Bridget was beside herself. She held on to Steven's hand as though her own life depended on it and refused to let go even after Lom and David had him settled on the examining table.

“Thank you Sheriff,” David said. “We're fine now.”

Lom nodded. “Okay Doc. I hope it goes okay.” He gave Bridget a reassuring squeeze on her arm and then exited the room to return to other duties.

Trish was busy loosening Steven's clothing and at the same time handed her husband his stethoscope. David snatched it up and, getting it into place, quieted his own breathing so he could listen to his patient.

“Is he alright?” Bridget asked. “Please tell me he's alright!”

David held up a hand to silence her. Trish came over to wrap an arm around Bridget's shoulder. Part of it was to offer comfort but the other, more important effect was to keep the anxious wife quiet and out of the way of the doctor's exam.

David listened intently as he moved the stethoscope around over various areas of the lungs. He checked the heart rate pulsing through the throat while at the same time taking note of the clammy skin and cold layer of sweat. Straightening up he returned the stethoscope to the tray and snatched up a small candle. Within seconds he had it lit and turning back to his patient, he lifted Steven's eyelids one at a time and gently waved the candle back and forth in front of the pupils.

Finally he sighed and straightening up he blew out the candle. Bridget looked at him with eyes filled with fear and consternation. Had that been a sigh of relief or of defeat? Her heart pounded in her throat and she felt as though her knees were going to buckle underneath her.

David met her eyes and smiled.

“He's alright,” he assured the anxious wife. “I was afraid he'd had an aneurysm which is usually fatal, but he has merely fainted.” 

Bridget paled with relief. She began to gasp for air and now her knees did buckle beneath her. Trish tightened her grasp and quickly helped the young woman to a handy chair so she could sit down.

“Oh my...” Bridget breathed as her ears began to buzz. “I can't breathe.”

The very fact that she could talk belied that statement, but David understood the sensations she was feeling. He moved around to his cabinet and took down the bottle of scotch whiskey that was kept there for this very reason. He quickly poured out a small shot of it while Tricia assisted her friend.

“Lean forward Bridget,” she instructed her. “Almost to your knees. Now take deep slow breaths. You'll be alright. It's just the shock.”

“Oh my...” Bridget repeated as her teeth chattered. “I'm so cold...”

Tricia quickly pulled a blanket down from the shelf and draped it around Bridget's shoulders.

“There you go,” she soothed her. “Just keep breathing. Deep and slow.”

“Yes. Alright.”

With her breathing becoming more relaxed, Bridget slowly straightened up again and found the small shot glass of whiskey being presented to her.

“Drink this,” David quietly instructed. “But slowly. Take sips. If you gulp whiskey when you're not used to it, you'll end up worse than you were.”

Bridget smiled shakily as she accepted the glass.

“I know David,” she assured the doctor. “I've had whiskey before. Papa always has it on hand for celebrations.”

David smiled. “Yes of course. I'd forgotten about that. Still, take your time. It'll help.”

Bridget smiled and began to sip the fiery drink. 

“I know,” she repeated. “I remember you doing this for Hannibal during that awful trial.” Another sip and a deep sigh. “It certainly helped him.”

“Yes,” David agreed as he continued a gentle exam of his first patient. He wanted to make sure Steven wasn't hiding any more injuries that the doctor should know about. “I had forgotten about that. It can work wonders.”

“Feeling better now?” Tricia asked her as she continued to rub Bridget's back.

“Yes,” Bridget nodded as she straightened up even more and took another deep breath. Her eyes turned loving as she gazed upon her husband. “He's going to be alright then?”

“I think so,” David assured her.

“You said he fainted?” Bridget looked so confused it was almost comical. “I thought only women fainted.”

David's smile broadened. “No,” he assured her. “Men simply don't want to admit to fainting so they refer to it as 'passing out'. Same thing. This was all quite new to him; more physical exertion than he is accustomed to, all the smoke and stress and then the bump on the head. It overwhelmed him and he simply, well...passed out.”

“Oh.” Bridget didn't know whether to be relieved or angry over the fear that this had caused her. “So he's going to be fine?”

“Yes,” David assured her. “I want him to stay here for now so we can keep an eye on him, but I'm sure he's out of danger. I need him out of here though as I'm sure we're not done with injuries yet.”

“Nathan's room is clear,” Tricia assured him. “We get him settled in there and I can tend to his needs. I'm sure between me and Bridget we can get him cleaned up and comfortable.”

David nodded. “Thank you. I would appreciate you staying with him Bridget. He still needs to be watched and I doubt that you would be able to keep your mind on other duties now anyway.”

“Of course,” Bridget agreed. “I had no intentions of leaving him alone. Merle and Maribelle are minding the children so I'm not needed over there ”

“Good.” 

David thought briefly of informing her that her father might also be in danger but decided that now was not the time.

Xxx

Evening was closing in upon the town of Brookswood as Monty paced down the main street towards David's home. The streets were quiet as those who were able to were sleeping in whatever accommodation had been provided for them. The injured had been treated and were resting, while those who's injuries were too extensive for David's small surgery had been tended to as well as could be and then sent by special train to the big hospital in Denver. More than one young man was going to be losing a limb or a digit that night.

Lights were still glowing as dusk settled in. Everyone was exhausted but they all felt it was the lull between the storms. The gathering darkness caused the red glow from the fire to stand out, stark and threatening, behind the hills it silhouetted. It was going to be a late night for everyone and the recent shift of men to charge into the breech would probably be working through most of it. Tired as they would become, they would be working diligently to dig trenches and bury any sign of flickering life that had managed to jump the creek. Everyone prayed for rain. 

Before Harry could even bring Monty to a halt, Belle, Beth and Isabelle were out the doctor's front door and running down the steps. Isabelle made a beeline for Harry and had latched onto him as soon as his feet had touched the ground. Beth went to her own husband to help him down and then they joined Belle at the back of the surrey.

“Oh dear God,” Belle was praying as she tried to see her husband's condition. “Is he still alive?”

“Yeah he is,” Jed assured her. “but he's serious injured. We gotta get 'im inside.”

Harry had released himself from his fiancee's arms by this time and came to the back of the wagon to assist where he could. David arrived at the same time with his ever ready stethoscope in hand and ready for use.

“Pull him out of there quickly, but be careful,” David ordered needlessly as the travois was already being slid gently out of the bed. “Place him on the ground.”

As soon as Jesse was settled David knelt down beside him, and after pulling the blanket down and opening up his shirt, the doctor took a listen to his patient's heart. It wasn't a normal beating pattern but that wasn't surprising considering what the man had obviously been through. David opened the shirt even more and tried to ignore the quiet gasps of shock from the family members.

Jesse's chest was clearly visible in the light from the front porch. It was black and blue from bruises, and he obviously had a broken collar bone. David hesitated for an instant. He needed to check the lungs but he didn't want to cause more damage to broken bones by doing so. He gently ran a sensitive hand over the injured chest and his fingers lost no time in locating the broken ribs and giving him a map to what areas he needed to avoid.

Once that was established he lay his ear gently onto the upper chest and tapped. The tip of his tongue peeked out in his concentration and his brows knitted in confusion. He lifted up and moved ear and tapping fingers to the other side and went through the same procedure. He sat up straight, looking even more confused after this second exam.

“His lungs are surprisingly clear,” David finally announced. “I don't understand it. Jed, come here.”

“What?” Jed was confused since he was already standing right there.

David impatiently waved him down.

“Come here!”

“Oh.”

Jed knelt down on the other side of Jesse and David wasted no time in grabbing his shirt front and pulling him closer. Reaching across the prone form of his patient, David opened Jed's shirt and placed the stethoscope against his lung. He listened for a moment then sat back again, feeling even more perplexed.

“I don't understand this,” the doctor admitted. “He was out there longer than any of you, yet your lungs are in worse shape than his. What happened out there? How did you find him?”

“Ellie brought us to him by her barking,' Jed explained hoarsely. “He was unconscious. We could tell he was bad hurt but we couldn't see how bad. We didn't want to move 'im but we had ta' get 'im outa there.”

“Yes of course,” David agreed despite his concern for what the journey home might have done to him. “I understand that, but it doesn't answer my question. Harry, go get a stretcher. I think there's one in the hallway. Tricia, get hot water and bandages ready in the surgery. Find those heavy scissors! We'll have to cut these clothes off him. Where's Ken? Didn't he go out there with you?”

“Yeah David, he's sittin' up front.”

David glanced quickly in that direction as more quiet coughing met his ears.

“Was he injured?” he asked as he continued to examine the pupils of his current patient.

“Yeah,” Jed told him. “It was so dark we could hardly see in front 'a us. What we thought was a pile of debris turned out to be Sam's horse. She panicked and sent Kenny flying. Broke his collar bone and gave him a bump on the head.”

“Dammit!” David cursed as he gently probed Jesse's neck and shoulders. “Has he passed out?”

“He did,” Jed admitted. “but I got 'im awake again.”

“Alright. I want you to get him and yourself over to John's right away,” David ordered. “Thank you Harry. Place it down here, right alongside. Excuse me Belle, you're going to have to move. Wait a minute Jed, help me get Jesse transferred to the stretcher. I understand your need for the travois but its not giving him much support. Okay, Harry get over there by his feet...what the hell!?”

“Oh yeah. Ellie,” Jed commented as he heard Beth's anguished cry.

David had flipped the blanket back all the way and the deceased dog nestled between Jesse's legs had been revealed. Beth was instantly on her knees beside her canine friend and hugged the bloody, dirt caked body to her breast. David just about had a hissy fit.

“Beth! Stop!” he actually yelled at her. “We have to keep your father as still as possible! Back off, now!”

“Oh...” Beth tried to contain her sobs as she backed off the travois. Realizing the further danger she had put her father in. “Yes, I'm...I'm sorry...”

“We need to get the dog off here before we can move Jesse,” David said, then softly voiced his observation in the hopes that Beth wouldn't hear him. “Are you going to take her back out to the ranch?”

“Probably,” Jed confirmed as he tried to keep his own coughing down to a minimum but his lungs burned like hell fire and breathing was difficult. “I think she's why Jesse doesn't have much smoke in his lungs. Ellie's barking brought us to 'em and she was laid out across Jesse's face. I think her fur acted as a filter for him but it cost her her life.”

David nodded his understanding.

“That would explain it. Move her off, but do it carefully. Don't knock him.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “Harry, help me. You get that end and I'll get this.”

Harry came to Ellie's head and between the two men they easily lifted the dog from the travois and gently moved her onto the back of the wagon. Beth looked stricken. She didn't know which way to go. Worry and concern over her father was paramount but grief over the loss of yet another of their loyal dogs pulled at her loyalties.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she approached the dog again and gently caressed the beloved face. She tried to fight the sobs that rose in her throat, but the strain of this day overwhelmed her. Her sorrow burst forth and not being able to give comfort to her father, she again fell over the furry body and hugged the dog to her breast.

Jed's heart nearly broke at his wife's pain. He knew how much she loved the animals on their ranch and the dogs always had her heart in their paws. Jed caressed her back and tried to give some comfort.

“She saved your Pa's life out there,” he told her. “I don't know how bad he's hurt, but I do know; we would never 'a got him back here alive if it weren't for her.”

Beth continued to sob into the fur, but she nodded her understanding. 

“Jed I need you here right now,” David was adamant. “Get Jesse moved over here.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

Harry and Jed knelt down by Jesse, one at his shoulders and one at his legs and then on David's command gently lifted one side of him up enough for David and Belle to slide the stretcher underneath him.

“Alright, Harry,” David ordered. “Help me get him into the house. Jed, you get yourself and Kenny over to John's. You still awake up there Kenny?”

“Yeah,” came the weak response from the front row.

“Good. John will take care of you.”

David and Harry gently lifted the stretcher and headed indoors with the smallgroup of ladies following. Belle was right along with them, taking hold of her husband's hand and praying for all she was worth that everything would be well. Bridget ran ahead to make sure the way was clear for them to get to David's surgery as quickly as possible while Isabelle trotted along behind Harry. She had no intentions of allowing her fiance out of her sight again. This had been such a harrowing day! Yesterday was supposed to have been her weddin' day! Life just didn't play fair sometimes.

 

Beth watched them disappear into the house and then leaned into her husband's arms as he came over to hold her tight.

“I was so worried,” she finally sniffed. “You and Papa out there with the fire closing in. An now Ellie's gone...and Papa!” she sobbed. “Oh no. What if he doesn't...? What if...?”

“Shh.” Jed let her stand but continued to caress her back, still keeping contact. “He's in there with David now. And David is just so doggone stubborn he ain't gonna let your Pa die.”

Beth allowed a small smile to escape past her sniffles.

“I should be in there to help,” she said. “Mama needs me.”

“Your sister is in there with her,” Jed assured. “You can take a minute.”

Beth nodded and turning to Ellie again, she stroked the fur and the sniffles continued.

“She was such a good dog,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, she was,” Jed agreed. “It'll be hard to find another as good as her.”

Beth nodded, swiped an arm across her nose and looked back towards the house. Then her eyes widened again in concern as her grieving mind recalled another injury.

She gasped as a hand came to her mouth, and instantly she ran around the side of the surrey and guiltily acknowledged the other man still sitting there.

“Oh my goodness! Oh dear!” 

She grabbed Kenny's hand in her consternation and accidentally bumped into the injured arm that was still resting in the makeshift sling. Kenny sucked his teeth and swayed slightly as dizziness attacked his already thumping head.

“Oh I'm sorry! Oh dear...no, no I won't touch you again.” Beth was almost beside herself. “How selfish of us. Here you are sitting all alone, and you're injured as well. We must get you tended too. I'll drive you over to John's place. You both look all done in...”

“No, Beth darlin',” Jed assured her as he took her elbow and directed her towards the front door. “You go on in and stay with your Ma and sister. I'll get us over to John's and then see you later.”

“Oh yes, alright. Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Go on in. I'll come back as soon as I can.”

Beth nodded and once the decision had been made as to where her loyalties should lie at that particular moment, she wasted no time dashing up the steps and into the doctor's house.

Jed wearily pulled himself up onto the driver's seat and turned Monty's head towards the other side of town. Monty woke up from his musings and straightening up his feet he willingly followed direction and began what he hoped would be the final duty of the day.

“Is she gone?” came the quiet enquiry from the back seat.

Jed couldn't help the exhausted smile.

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Xxx

 

“Well it's about time you got back!” came Wheat's voice from out of the darkness. “What the hell were ya' doin' out there? Roastin' rats over the fire 'er somethin'? Dang, I thought Ames was bad enough!”

“Good ta' see you too Wheat,” Jed told him quietly as he slowly stepped down from the driver's seat. “Didn't mean ta' worry ya' like that.”

Wheat snorted. “Worried? I weren't worried. You was just gone quite a while is all.”

“Yeah okay. Help me with Kenny, will ya'?”

“What's wrong with 'im?”

“He's passed out again.”

“What's this then?” came John's voice from his front door. “Somebody hurt?”

“Hey Doc,” Jed greeted him as he and Wheat got Kenny swung around and down from the seat. Jed was back to coughing again, but he still got his friend's good arm over his shoulder and headed for the door. “David sent us over here...Hope we ain't intudin'”

“No no, of course not. Mary! We have another injury coming in!”

Wheat took hold of Kenny's belt and helped to get the unconscious man into the house. John led them down the hallway towards his own surgery and they were able to get Kenny settled down onto the examining table. John was in there in an instant and began to go through the usual exam.

“Dear oh dear oh dear,” he muttered as he ran through the list. “What a day and a night and another day it has been. “You must be exhausted. How much rest have you had?”

Jed shrugged as he wearily sat down in a convenient chair.

“None recently that I recall,” he admitted. “I'll get some sleep once I know my friend here is tended to.”

“He'll be tended to,” came Mary's voice as she came into the room with the inevitable basin of hot water. “But don't you look a mess!”

Putting the basin down on the side table she came over to Jed, and taking his chin in her hands she peered into his tired eyes.

“I'll give you some drops for your eyes,” she said. “They look mighty sore.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“How's your head?”

“Poundin'.”

“Yes. To be expected,” she commented. “We'll give you some laudanum for that.”

“Oh ma'am, I'd rather not...”

“Don't be silly,” she admonished him. “It will ease the pain. How do your lungs feel?”

“Like they've been roasted from the inside out.”

She went over to the counter and came back carrying one of those odd looking inhalators that David had been using.

“Put this mask over your nose and mouth,” she instructed. “now just breathe normally.”

She gave the small bellows a little pump and Jed's eyes widened in surprise.

“That better?”

Jed nodded but kept the mask in place. The sudden intake of oxygen was making him slightly lightheaded, but his lungs insisted on taking in more. Mary only allowed him so much at a time though, not wanting to overtax his already tender respiratory tract.

“Yeah that's a pretty handy contraption ain't it?” Wheat commented. “The Doc's wife gave me a puff or two 'a that when the smoke was gettin' too much. I think I need ta' get me one 'a them.”

Mary came back to Jed again and placed a small dish on the table beside him. She dipped an eye dropper into the liquid and smiled sweetly at him.

Jed felt a slight shiver of dread go through him. He had learned to become suspicious of that smile coming from and medical person, whether it be the doctor or the doctor's wife. He frowned and dropped the face mask down to his lap.

“What?” he asked.

“Just some medication for your eyes,” Mary assured him. “It will make them feel much better.”

“Huh huh,” Jed wasn't convinced. “I think I'll just forgo...”

“Oh don't be silly,” she admonished him. “It'll sting at first but surely a big strapping young man like you can handle a little discomfort.”

Jed looked at her through red-rimmed eyes that stared out from a face covered in soot and dirt and ugly burn patches on exposed skin. Even his brows were singed and practically nonexistant.

“Yeah Kid,” Wheat snickered. “Stop bein' such a baby.”

Jed sent his lieutenant an irritated and irritating look, and before he knew it, Mary had his eyelid pulled up and the drops in one of his eyes before he had a chance to blink.

He sucked his teeth as the liquid burned on the already abused eyeball, and he cursed himself for forgetting how sneaky the people in this profession could be.

“Now, just let me get the other one...” Mary chirped.

“No!...Oh Damn!” Jed squeezed both eyes shut as the burning intensified. “Jeezus!”

“Really, such language!” Mary reprimanded him. “It's not that bad.”

Beside him, Jed could hear Wheat snickering as well.

“Yeah Kid, it ain't that bad,” Wheat continued. “Be brave and I'll take ya' fer a drink after.”

Jed continued to blink and tears rolled down his cheek.

“Yeah, thanks Wheat,” he grumbled. “All I wanna do after this, is collect up my wife and go to bed.”

Wheat smirked. “Yeah. I already got me a gal fixed up fer that. Just waitin' fer things ta' calm down a bit before taken my leisure...” He noticed the two dubious looks directed at him. “Oh..ah, sorry ma'am. Fergot where I was.” He grinned and gave the Kid a jab with his elbow.

Jed groaned.

“Deputy,” the doctor summoned. “Your assistance please.”

Wheat continued to smirk in the Kid's direction and Jed returned it with a raised eyebrow. Wheat frowned.

“What?”

“The doc's askin' for your assistance.”

“What!” Wheat jumped and turned his attention to the enquiring medical man. “Oh yeah. Sorry Doc. I ain't used ta' respondin' ta' that handle. Well at least not in a assistin' kind'a manner. Ya' know what I mean?”

“Hmm.” The doc was not impressed. “Well, if you don't mind giving me your assistance now. I need you to hold his man steady while I set this bone.”

“Oh well yeah, a' course,” Wheat blustered. “Why didn't ya' say so?”

Half an hour later, Jed and Wheat left Kenny in the capable hands of the older doctor and headed back out to find Monty still waiting for someone to take him home. Jed approached the surrey and tripped over his own feet. He would have smashed face first into the wheel if Wheat hadn't caught him.

“Jeez Kid, I think yer right. You best find yerself a place to lay down before ya' fall down.” the ex-outlaw snarked. “You still stayin' over at Heyes' place?”

“Yeah,” Jed mumbled. “but I bet Beth is still at David's. I should go and get her.”

“Well, I'll drive ya' there,” Wheat generously offered. “You'd probably fall asleep and that horse'd just head on out to the ranch all on his own.”

Jed simply nodded and once again climbed aboard the conveyance. Wheat picked up the lines and clucked. The tired gelding heaved himself into walk and made the trip across town one more time.

“How's Kyle doin'?” Jed finally thought to ask.

“Doc gave 'im somethin' fer the pain,” Wheat told him. “He's sleepin' like a new born babe. Ames is wilt 'im. I been keepin' as eye on things in town here. You know, helpin' Joe out keepin' the rowdies from causin' trouble and stealin' stuff.”

“Yeah?” asked Jed. “How you likin' being a deputy?”

Wheat snorted again. “Shit, this is easy. If I'd a known bein' a deputy was such a cushy job I'd a' switched sides years ago.”

“Uh huh. Maybe Jacobs will take ya' on full time.”

“Yeah. No thanks,” Wheat drew the line at that. “Bad enough me and Kyle's workin' fer the law now without actually becomin' one of 'em.”

“I know what you mean.”

The rest of the ride continued on in silence, until Monty stopped on his own accord at David's front porch. Jed stepped down and got his balance before letting go.

“Could you take Monty over to Eric's for tonight?” Jed asked his driver. “He's worked hard today and needs a rub down and some grain. Tell Eric I'm good fer it. I'll pay 'im tomorrow.”

“Ah shit,” Wheat cursed. “That cantankerous old bastard. He's still goin' around complainin' about his horses even though there ain't nobody listenin' to 'im. Now I'm gonna get another earful about them two drafts you and Reece took. Does he at least have 'em back now?”

“No,” Jed informed him. “Sam is riding them back although he should be getting into town pretty soon now.”

“Damn!” Wheat cursed again.

Jed gave a tired wave and pulled himself up the steps to the front door. He thought of something and stopped and turned around.

“Oh, one more thing.”

“What?”

“There's a dead dog under the seats.”

“What!?”

“The Jordan's ranch dog. She died an honourable death Wheat; show her respect. And don't let Eric do nothin' with her either. Cover her up and just leave her in the surrey for now. We'll figure how ta' deal with her come mornin'.”

“Well this night's just gettin' better 'an better, ain't it?” Wheat snarked as he got Monty moving again. “Dead dog in the back a' the surrey. I can already hear what Eric'll have ta' say about that....”

Jed came into the kitchen to find it quiet and sobering. Most of the previous wave of patients had been well enough to move over to other abodes, so for the first time in 24 hours the walls were not lined with resting men. Isabelle had made tea, and even Harry was partaking of the drink just to make his fiancee feel better. Beth sat with them, her red-rimmed eyes looking both tired and worried. She smiled up at her husband as he joined them at the table and she reached out her hand to take his.

“How is he?” Jed asked.

“Don't know yet,” Beth told him. “Mama's in there with them. Bridget went back to sit with Steven, but she's keeping an ear on what's going on out here.”

Jed nodded. He was exhausted. He needed to sleep, but worry over his father-in-law was keeping his mind awake. He could take the laudanum, but he'd rather sit here with the family until they knew something, then he knew he'd be down for the count. Isabelle seemed reluctant to return to her home, especially now that it was dark. Jed fleetingly considered offering her a place over at Heyes' home then thought it might be inappropriate. Perhaps the ladies have those details already worked out and his best choice was to simply stay out of it. Harry had a hotel room, but he wasn't feeling inclined to leave his fiancee just yet.

“Are any of you hungry?” Isabelle asked to everyone's surprise. She wasn't generally one to offer any assistance. “I know you're all worried, but you should eat something. Tricia left stew on the stove. It won't take long to heat it up.”

“I ain't real...”

“I'll heat it up,” Isabelle cut Jed off. “It'll give me something to do.”

A hasty meal of stew and bread was put together, and once started, both Harry and Jed found that they were hungrier than they thought they were. Even Bridget came out to partake of a little something to eat. 

Shortly after the meal was cleared away, the door to the surgery finally opened and Belle came out to join the small group around the table. All eyes were instantly on her, and she sent them a reassuring smile. Relief showed through her weariness as she sat down and accepted a cup of tea.

“David thinks he'll be fine,” she told them, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “but it's going to take time for him to get on his feet. And even then....” her voice trailed off as worry settled in again. But she shook it off and smiled once more. “David tested him for a skull fracture and didn't find one. He also got some movement from Jesse's feet and for some reason seemed to think that was a good indication that his spine was alright.” She frowned and shrugged at this revelation. “I don't really understand that, but I trust in David and his knowledge.” 

A round of nodding heads agreed with this statement.

“He does have a concussion,” Belle continued. “so he'll need to be watched. Let's see...he has a broken collar bone, those seem to be common tonight. I suppose the horse fell on his left side because his bones are broken all the way down on that...” Her voice broke, and a sob came forth. Beth and Bridget were on their feet and at their mother's side in no time. They hugged her close and hands were held in support. Belle patted them and smiled her reassurance. “His arm is broken in two places and three of his ribs. His pelvic bone is broken, his thigh bone and his ankle.”

“Oh Mama...”

“But he's alive,” Belle continued. “And let's remember that under David's care Amy completely recovered from worse than this. If she could do it, so can Jesse. But I can't thank you boys enough for going out there and bringing him back safe.”

She stood up and came to give Jed a loving hug. Jed stood up and received it, holding her tight and stroking her hair.

“Thank you so much,” she repeated. “Both of you.”

And to prove she meant it, she went over and gave Harry just as big a hug as she'd given Jed. It was hard to tell underneath the mildly burned skin, but Jed was sure the wiry detective actually blushed.

“Well now ma'am, your husband has been a good friend to me,” Harry blustered. “Why there's no way at all we could'a just left 'im out there to die a horrible death in those flames...”

“I shudder to think,” Belle agreed, giving Harry a pat on the arm. “And that you were actually able to find him.”

“You have Ellie to thank for that,” Jed reminded them all. “She saved his, life Belle. She was loyal to the end.”

“Yes,” Belle dabbed her eyes as she sat back down. “What a shame. She was turning into such a good working dog too. She'll be hard to replace. Jesse won't be pleased to hear about this.”

“J.J's going to be heartbroken,” Beth commented quietly. “He and Ellie were good buddies.”

“We'll bury her out at the ranch,” Belle assured everyone. “We'll find her a good spot up on the hill. Right beside Rufus.”

Xxx

Outside in the darkness of the night, the sound of plodding hooves in dirt could be heard if anyone had been of a mind to listen. Sam was so tired he could hardly stay awake and had given the horses the freedom to find their own way back without much direction from him. They knew where home was and both animals, though built for endurance and hard work, were exhausted themselves, and the small burns where falling ash had penetrated their coats were sore and uncomfortable. Sam was too tired to worry about Eric's reaction to those. 

Something stirred him though as he pulled up in front of the familiar barn doors. At first he wasn't sure what it was, and he looked around the street with his focus in a mild haze. He could hear music from the saloon drifting down towards them and could still see lights on at the sheriff's office, but other than that the town was quiet and dark aside from the convenient street lamps. 

He blinked as a soft breeze rustled the dirty strands of hair hanging down his forehead. He raised his tired eyes to the heavens and noticed that what had once been a clear, star studded night was beginning to fade into increasing cloud cover. He sniffed. A thrill went through his body as he recognized the scent on the air. Finally and none too soon; rain was coming.

 

YUMA, ARIZONA

Miranda came down the stairs into the hotel lobby and hesitated before going into the restaurant for breakfast. She knew she should eat something before getting involved with what could be a busy day, but the idea of sharing another meal with the Soames couple was a little more than her empty stomach could handle at the moment.

“Miranda!”

The woman in question jumped at the unexpected summons and turned to find the two people she had hoped to avoid coming down the stairs behind her. She sighed and accepted the inevitable meeting.

“Good morning,” she smiled at the couple. “What a lovely day you have for your journey south.”

Lois' face fell in disappointment.

“Does that mean you won't be joining us?” she asked. “I was so hoping...”

“I don't know yet,” Miranda informed her. “My husband and I are awaiting a telegram.”

“I see your husband is not with you,” Cedric observed. “Is the sheriff still detaining him?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so,” Miranda admitted. “It's silly really. Just formalities. We'll get it cleared up, I'm just not sure if it will be in time for the coach.”

“Come and have breakfast with us,” Lois insisted as she linked her arm in Randa's and began steering her towards the restaurant entrance.

“Oh well,” Miranda resisted. “I was planning on taking something light over to the jail and have breakfast with Han.”

“Don't you mean 'Hannibal'?” Cedric's expression was hard.

Miranda pursed her lips and returned his look to him.

“Yes 'Cedric', my husband is Hannibal Heyes...” a slight squeak from Lois. “...but as I'm sure you know, he has paid his debt to Wyoming and is free to come and go just as you are.”

“That's all a matter of opinion I suppose,” Cedric commented with distainfully. “and if that is the case, then why is the sheriff detaining him?”

Miranda smiled patiently. “As I said; it is simply a matter of formalities. It will be cleared up, and then we will be on our way.”

“Perhaps,” Cedric was sceptical. “In either case, it's not likely to be with us. Come along Lois. We'll find respectable company to join us on our journey.”

“Oh. But...” She sent beseeching eyes to her new friend, but her husband took her other arm and pulled her along towards the restaurant. She smiled sadly at Miranda and sent her a little wave before turning and willingly doing her husband's bidding.

Miranda stood and seethed. 'What a lout!' she thought. 'Poor woman being married to that snake. It would serve him right if he did run into Hannibal in Santa Marta. He wouldn't be such a snob then once he'd had a taste of coming up against a real man...'

“Mrs Heyes?”

For the second time that morning Miranda jumped at the unexpected summons. She turned towards the front desk and the clerk who was smiling at her.

“Oh yes,” she smiled and came over. “What is it?”

“The deputy was just in here ma'am,” he explained. “said you was welcome to join your husband for breakfast if you like. It'll be sent over directly.”

Miranda smiled. This was more like it. 

“Yes thank you. I will do that.” She turned and headed for the front door, then stopped and looked back. “Would you happen to know if any telegrams arrived for the sheriff this morning?”

“Liam opened up at 9:00 ma'am,” the clerk informed her. “If he had any telegrams for the sheriff, he'll let him know directly.”

“Yes of course. Thank you.”

 

Miranda stepped into the adobe style sheriff's office and was pleasantly surprised to find that the building was still holding on to a lot of the night's coolness despite the current rising temperatures. Sheriff Nugent was just pouring himself a cup of coffee when he turned at the sound of his visitor.

“Morning Ma'am,” he greeted her and lifted the coffee pot. “Just fresh made. Would you like a cup?”

Miranda smiled. “Yes, thank you. Any answer to the telegram?”

“No Ma'am.”

Miranda sighed as she accepted the hot drink.

“We've got a pot full of beef hash if you'd like some,” he offered. “Your husband doesn't seem too appreciative of it but I like it fine.”

Miranda smiled. “I expect it's more the location than the breakfast that he's not appreciative of Sheriff.”

“Hmm. You may very well be right about that. Well, go on in. Maybe you can get 'im to eat something.”

Miranda approached the line of cells and sat down in the chair that was still positioned there. Hannibal was sitting on his bunk, his back resting against the far wall with his stockinged feet drawn up to hold him there. He was pampering a half empty cup of coffee but his plate of hash sat untouched upon the floor.

“I don't need to ask how you are this morning,” Miranda observed. “Did you sleep at all?”

Hannibal sent a dead expression back to her.

“I don't understand why Steven's not responding,” he grumbled.

“It's probably just the timing,” Miranda consoled him. “They may very well have stayed in Brookswood after all. Perhaps Bridget wanted to stay and visit with her family for a day or two. I'm going to send a telegram to David once you and I have had a little talk. If Steven and Bridget are still in town he'll let them know to get in touch. I can send one to Kenny as well, and Lom. I'm not even sure they went to Harry's wedding.”

Heyes bit his lower lip in some consternation. He might be feeling down but he hadn't missed that subtle little additive in his wife's comment.

“Talk about what?” he asked her.

Miranda instantly regretted mentioning it. Her husband was already in a foul mood and this probably wasn't the time or place.

“We can discuss it later,” she assured him. “Once all this is cleared up.”

“No,” Heyes disagreed as he came to his feet. “You brought it up. Obviously it's bothering you. I'm a captive audience, so we may as well discuss it now.”

Miranda sighed and took a drink of coffee. She looked up and directly into her husband's eyes.

“When I was collecting your belongings here last night, I didn't see your medical case.”

Hannibal's countenance softened and his demeanour changed ever so slightly.

“When I got back to the hotel room, I went through your carpet bag,” she continued without the slightest hint of apology. “I found the case but there was no serum in it.” 

A hand went through the dark hair and he began to pace. Miranda sat quietly, awaiting an explanation. Heyes was improving on controlling this obsessive behaviour and it didn't take long before he gave up on this avoidance tactic. With a resigned sigh, leaned back against the far wall and stared at the floor of the cell right in front of his wife's feet.

“I don't like carrying it around with me,” he finally admitted. “It's embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” Miranda was incredulous. “More embarrassing than having a seizure?”

“And I don't like the after-effects of taking it.”

“You've never taken any. How would you know?”

“I asked David before we left,” he explained. “I wanted to know what the drug would do to me and I didn't like the answer.”

“Worse than what the seizures do to you?”

“Well—yes!” Heyes started to pace again. “He said the serum is basically just a strong sedative. That's how it works. It'll knock me flat. I mean I could...” Tentative glance towards the office and a lowering of his voice. “...lose control with everything.”

Miranda frowned. 

“Is that what David told you?”

“Well, no,” Heyes admitted. “but it doesn't take a genius to put 2 and 2 together.”

“But apparently it does take a genius to come up with 5 as the answer.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Hannibal you over-think things,” Miranda accused him. “If the sedative was so strong that you would lose control down there then you probably wouldn't even be able to breathe or swallow. You would suffocate...”

“All the more reason not to take it!”

Miranda shook her head, the coffee in the cup on the floor beside her going cold.

“Why would David risk giving you something that strong?” she was trying hard to be reasonable. “You trust David, don't you?”

Heyes' jaw tightened in irritation and he avoided his wife's gaze. He was finding himself running out of excuses.

“Yes,” he finally admitted. “but that sedative would leave me totally incapacitated. Why would I deliberately take that risk?”

“But a seizure would do the same thing!” Miranda persisted. “And goodness knows what other damage could be caused by your muscles spasming like that. Surely you can see that it's the lesser of two evils.”

“Besides,” Heyes ploughed on, ignoring Miranda's logic. “there's a good possibility I'll never have another seizure again. Even David agreed that the last one was probably caused by my exhaustion and the stress of that situation. I hate having to carry that case on me. You should see the looks people give me when they open it up. They seem to think I'm some kind of lunatic, like I'm somehow less human. It's embarrassing.”

“Sometimes I simply don't understand you,” she admitted. “You came back from Wyoming with the understanding that the more people who know about your condition, the better. Now you're simply pretending that it doesn't exist? That it doesn't need to be dealt with?”

Hannibal stopped pacing, his back against the wall. He felt threatened. Miranda sat biting her lower lip and staring at the floor. She felt excluded.

“It's my body,” he grumbled. “It's my life.”

“NO IT'S NOT!” Miranda was instantly on her feet, her hands clutching the bars. Nugent wondered if he was going to have to intervene on this spousal spat. “It is not just your life anymore! You're sharing that life now! It belongs to me! It belongs to Sally and it belongs to our baby! How can you be so selfish?! Don't we matter to you? Don't you care what it would do to us if we were to lose...” Miranda gasped as an unbidden sob burst forth. Her eyes burned with tears. “I couldn't bear it—losing you! I couldn't bear it! Can't you see?”

Hannibal deflated. He came to her and took her into his arms. The bars got in the way but that didn't stop him from trying to comfort his wife. Suddenly he felt like a cad and regretted everything he had just said. Nugent rolled his eyes. All a woman had to do to win an argument was bring on the tears. Apparently not even a hardened outlaw and ex-convict like Hannibal Heyes was immune to that most versatile of feminine weapons.

“I'm sorry,” Hannibal whispered to her. “Alright. You win. And you're right; you do matter to me—more than I can say. Ask the doc in town here if he can give us a refill.”

Miranda nodded and tried to settle herself.

“This is silly,” she sniffed. “I hate crying just because I'm angry. But the very thought of losing you...” her jaw tightened as she suppressed another threatening sob. She got herself in hand and taking her hanky out of her purse, she dabbed at her eyes and nose. “If you don't want to carry it on you all the time,” she told him. “I can carry it in my belt purse. The case is small enough so it will fit. Would you feel more comfortable with that?”

Hannibal smiled at her.

“Alright,” he agreed. “That would help. It shouldn't bother me, I know. But you should see the looks I get when that case gets discovered—even from friends. The first assumption they jump to is that I must be some kind of mental case. Then it's like 'oh yeah, well that explains it. No wonder we can never get him to shut up,!”

Miranda couldn't help but chuckle through her sniffles.

“Surely it's not that bad,” she challenged him.

Heyes rolled his eyes.

“Am I really that hard to get along with?” he asked. “People are so willing to believe that I'm taking something and that's why I'm so...what? Jittery? High strung? A pain in the ass? Arrgg...”

He leaned his forehead against the bars in his frustration. Miranda tried hard not to smile at his obvious concern for this matter.

“Then all the more reason for you to let them know about your medical condition,” she pointed out logically.

Heyes groaned.

“Medical condition,” he griped. “You make it sound like I'm an invalid.”

“Arrgg...” It was her turn to groan. She took hold of his shirt sleeve and gently shook it. “You can be a most confounding individual at times. There really is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. I mean, really...have any of your good friends or family ever laughed at you and made you feel uncomfortable about this?”

“No,” her husband relented. “Even Wheat, once he got over the shock of finding it, just seemed to shrug it off.”

“So there you go,” Miranda concluded. “You're the only one making a big fuss about it. You're allowing the ailment to define you and control you rather than you controlling it.”

Heyes sighed.

“And that's exactly what David said,” he admitted. “Sometimes I think you two are in cohoots together.”

This time Miranda did laugh out loud.

“No. We're just two very sensible people.”

“Yes, you are.”

“So it's agreed. You will keep the medication close at hand and use it if needs be. To save you needless embarrassment, I will carry the case in my purse. Of course that is only good for when we're together,” Miranda stipulated. “When we're apart you need to carry it with you yourself. Alright?”

Heyes grinned and nodded.

“Alright.”

Despite being totally aware of the sheriff's scrutiny, Heyes took his wife's face in both his hand and kissed her through the bars.

“I love you.”

Their embrace was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of an older gentleman wearing sleeve guards. 

“Telegram for you, Sheriff!”

“Thank you, Liam,” Nugent accepted the note paper. “I'll let you know if I'm sending an answer.”

Liam nodded and left the building. He didn't like taking too much time away from his office just in case something important came in.

Hannibal and Miranda waited impatiently as Nugent settled back into his chair and read over the message.

“Hmm,” he finally commented. He set the telegram down and ambled over to the coffee pot again.

“Well?” Heyes asked him. “Was that my lawyer?”

“Hmm? Oh no. That had nothing to do with you. Appears your 'lawyer' doesn't seem too interested in your enquiry.”

Both Heyes and Miranda slumped at the same time.

“I just don't get it,” Heyes grumbled. “Why isn't he responding?”

Miranda patted his arm.

“I will go send my telegram,” she told him. “Perhaps I'll send another one directly to Sheriff Jacobs. That way we should be covering all the angles.”

Heyes nodded, still looking perplexed.

“You're sending one to David and now to Jacobs, right?” Heyes confirmed and Miranda nodded. “Send one to the Kid as well. If for some reason everyone else is occupied elsewhere then at least the Kid will pay attention. Somebody's got to be awake over there!”

Xxx

Miranda sent the various telegrams, making sure that Liam understood the importance of the answers. He was to let the sheriff know right away when an answer to any of the telegrams was returned to them. 

“It's of the utmost importance,” Randa reiterated. “We need an answer as soon as possible.”

“Yes, yes,” Liam waved the silly woman away. “I'll be sure to let the sheriff or one of the deputies know as soon as something comes in.”

“No, not the deputies,” Miranda insisted. “The sheriff. Only Sheriff Nugent.”

“Hmm.”

Miranda frowned irritation. She unhooked her belt purse and extracted two one dollar coins. Liam's eyes lit up and she instantly had his full attention.

“Only Sheriff Nugent,” she repeated.

“Yes ma'am,” the telegrapher agreed as gnarly ink stained fingers reached for the coins.

Miranda snatched them out of his reach.

“As soon as any response comes in,” she added, pointedly.

Liam nodded. “As soon as it comes in. Yes ma'am.”

“Thank you,” Miranda accepted the assurance and handed over the coins. “Now, can you please direct me to the doctor's office?”

“Oh, yes ma'am,” Suddenly Liam was all compliance. “That'll be Doctor Shandal. Go down past the funeral parlour then turn right. His is the green house, two doors down.”

“Past the funeral parlour,” Miranda confirmed sceptically.

“Yes ma'am.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

Miranda walked quickly down the street in the appropriate direction. She wasn't sure if this course of action would help their situation, but she would feel better if the local doctor could fill her husband's vial right now, instead of waiting for David to send some. Best to be safe and ending up with more than they needed was certainly better than the situation they were in right now.

She found the house without too much difficulty, and taking note of the plaque hanging beside the front door, she ascended the two steps and gave the knocker a couple of definitive taps. A small dog started to bark incessantly from inside the house and the sound of toe nails scrambling on hardwood completed the image of the disturbance she had caused.

“Oh do be quiet, Digby!” came the feminine reprimand from behind the closed door. “I would think you would be used to people coming to the door by now. Go on! Be off with you!”

A sharp high-pitched yelp made its way to Miranda's ears, and her brows rose in concern. As the door began to open, she braced herself to be confronted by a skinny stern-faced matriarch who ate fire and brimstone for breakfast and would take no nonsense from anybody.

The sweet, cherub face of the little elderly woman who did answer took Miranda by surprise.

“Yes my dear?” she asked quietly and with a helpful smile. “Are you here to see the doctor?”

“Oh. Yes, if he is in,” Randa got herself collected. 

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I'm afraid not,” Randa admitted. “My husband and I are just passing through town. I only need a moment...”

“Well come in,” the elderly matron instructed as she opened the door wide enough for entrance. “but don't be long,” and she wagged a finger under the younger woman's nose. “he has his rounds to do you know.”

“Yes, of course. I won't be long.”

Mrs. Shandal lead the way into the kitchen where the doctor was pouring himself a second cup of coffee, and again Miranda's image of what the doctor would look like was was contradicted by the actual appearance of the individual. Where Miranda had expected a certain type of person from the exchange she had overheard through the front door she had quickly adjusted her assumption with the appearance of the exact opposite. Now she was seeing exactly that type of person of her imaginings in the form of the husband.

Dr. Shandal turned to greet his client, and Miranda had to consciously remind herself not to recoil from the man. He was extremely tall, even taller than David, and much skinnier. He was like a bent over and crooked weed, towering over her, with his hooked nose and cadaverous features giving the impression of a lurking vulture rather than a caring healer.

Miranda forced a smile as the spectre stretched out a bony hand in greeting.

“Good morning ma'am,” came the quiet and brooding voice. “Must be quick. I have my rounds.”

“Yes, of course,” Miranda agreed. “Sorry to have bothered you.” And at this point, she truly meant it. “My husband and I are just travelling through town on our way to Santa Marta when we realized that he was out of his medicine. We were hoping you would be able to replenish our supply.”

“Really?” the doctor sounded sceptical. “I don't usually hand out medication without an examination of the patient first. What does your husband need?”

“It's just a strong sedative,” Miranda explained though for some reason she did not feel inclined to elaborate. “I've sent a telegram to our own doctor to send some to us, but it would be so much easier if we could simply get a supply from you.”

“Hmm.” Shandal took a sip of coffee. “I would still prefer to see your husband before handing out something like that. No offence ma'am, but I don't know you. How do I know you don't intend some, shall we say; lethal use for it?”

“Oh dear, no,” Miranda smiled to make light of the suggestion, but inside she was feeling uncomfortable. Her quiet inner voice was telling her to be careful here. “Our own doctor was simply concerned that my husband might suffer muscle cramps due to a previous injury, that's all.”

“Muscle cramps?” the doctor repeated.

“Yes.”

“I would still prefer to see him. I will be back from my rounds by 1:00 this afternoon. He can come over then. What is his name?”

Miranda wasn't liking this. Suddenly, she was being put into the same position that her husband had been complaining about. People whom he did not know wanting to delve into his personal matters. Wanting to know his name, his history, his medical condition. She now found herself in complete understanding of why Hannibal was being so obstinate. Why that layer of protective irritation settled over him whenever a lawman or a doctor started asking questions.

Miranda now began exhibiting the same defensive attitude that she had just been reprimanding her husband for. She knew she was doing it yet she could not help herself.

“It doesn't matter,” she told the doctor. “We'll just wait until our own doctor can get some to us.”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous,” Shandal retorted. “He won't be able to send something like that through the post. He would have to send me the name of the drug and I would fill it for you. It would save you a lot of time if your husband would simply come over here himself and discuss the situation.” 

“My husband doesn't like to discuss his situation,” Miranda countered, thinking that she was no longer comfortable discussing it either. “We'll wait until Dr. Gibson can get the information to you. I believe we'll be in town for another day or two anyway.”

“If that is what you prefer,” Dr. Shandal agreed, though he wasn't too pleased about the outcome of this visit. “If he changes his mind, I will be in my office all afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Miranda felt relief as she discreetly began heading for the door. “I'll be sure to let him know.”

Mrs Shandal stepped in and escorted their guest out the doorway.

“Goodbye, my dear,” she said sweetly. “You're quite welcome to come back.”

“Yes, thank you.” Miranda smiled and made a hasty retreat.

“What an odd young woman,” Mrs. Shandal commented. “It almost seemed like she was hiding something.”

“Yes,” her husband commented dryly. “but, I don't have time to worry about it now. I must start my rounds.”

“Oh! Yes of course,” the wife agreed. “Don't forget your jacket. I know it's hot out now, but you never know when the weather could change on you. And here's your bag. Oh, and here's the list of patients you are to see today...”

“Yes, yes, yes. Thank you my dear. I will see you for lunch.”

And with that the doctor was gone. He trotted down the front steps to the garden path and walked out to the street. He started to turn right to get to the home of his first patient when he stopped in his tracks and made the decision to go the other way. Walking quickly, he came to the intersection and turning left, carried on past the funeral parlour and onwards to the main street in town.

It didn't take him long to spot his recent visitor hurrying along the street towards whatever her destination might be. At first, the doctor thought it was the stagecoach that was parked outside the hotel. If the doctor had his days right, this was the coach that carried on south, across the border and into Mexico. The driver appeared to be loading up luggage so would obviously be heading out with passengers within the hour.

But then his quarry picked up her pace as she went by the coach and carried on down the street. She went past the hotel, past the cafe and past the ladies attire shop. The adobe building she did turn in to stopped the doctor in his tracks.

The sheriff's office? The doctor frowned. This required further investigation. He did not however, have time at the moment. Fighting against the natural curiosity of an enquiring mind, the doctor turned on his heels to begin his rounds, but he made a mental note that his last stop of the day would be a visit to Sheriff Nugent. 

 

BROOKSWOOD, COLORADO

 

Clickclickclick...clickclick...clickclickclick...

The noise was insistent, and no matter how quickly Clayt wrote down the messages coming in on the wire, he simply could not keep up with it. Little pieces of paper were piling high up on his desk as he wrote out message and message, pushing them aside to make room for the next one coming in. They littered the floor, piling higher and higher, and the wire continued clicking until poor Clayt thought he would go mad.

He couldn't even remember what he was writing down anymore. One message was blurring into the next, and he couldn't keep it all straight. People were getting angry with him for taking so long, pounding on the office door and shouting obscenities. Why couldn't they just go away? As soon as he got a break, he would deliver the telegrams to the appropriate party. Couldn't they tell that their increasing hostility towards him was hindering his progress rather than helping? 

Where was his assistant? The only reason he'd hired that young fool was so he could run messages when Clayt was too busy in the office. It doesn't do to leave the telegraph unattended, especially during a time of crisis. But now, what was he to do? That kid was nowhere to be seen, and these telegrams needed to be delivered.

White pieces of paper began to flutter down from the ceiling, adding to the layer that was already covering the entire floor of the office. Soon, a blizzard was blowing and the paper whirled around him, the wind scattering the once neatly piled telegrams on his desk and sending them hither and yon. He tried to grab them, tried to snatch them out of the air, but they swirled away from him as though they had a life of their own.

The telegrams continued to fall from the ceiling in ever thickening waves, and Clayt found himself wading through knee-deep drifts of paper, as he tried to get to the door of his office. If he could just get outside he could start to deliver the messages and hopefully appease the townspeople. He could still hear them above the howling of the paper storm, shouting at him and wanting his blood, as though for some reason this was all his fault. But the swirling blizzard was disorienting, and he found that he couldn't see where he was going. He was close to panicking as the drifts became waist deep., and he was struggling through it, trying to find the door.

He tripped and fell, and the whiteness began to close in on him. He could still hear people yelling, as darkness stole away the light, and he felt like he was suffocating. He struggled and fought but he continued to sink deeper and deeper, and the further down he went the louder and more persistent came the tapping of the telegraph.

Clickclickclick...clickityclickclick...clickclick...click... 

 

Clayt awoke with a start. He felt dazed for a moment, uncertain as to where he was and what he should be doing. His heart was racing and he was feeling the need to gulp air into his lungs, even though he was seated comfortable in his chair. There was a pile of telegrams neatly stacked to his left awaiting delivery, and more notes to his right were waiting to be sent.

It had been a busy couple of days, with messages and Clayt flying back and forth in an effort to keep communication open between Brookswood and all the other surrounding townships. Not to mention worried enquiries coming and going from loved ones needing to send and receive assurances of safety and support.

Clayt had been so exhausted the previous evening that he had apparently simply fallen asleep at his desk, and it would seem right in the middle of jotting down an incoming message. The pencil was still in his hand and the incoherent writing staring back at him from the sheet of paper.

He took a deep breath and ran his hands through what was left of his thinning hair. He still felt some confusion. People were outside yelling at one another, and he could still hear the persistent tapping coming from somewhere in the vicinity. He glanced at the machine sitting in front of him on the desk, but it was quiet and motionless. Not a peep did it make.

He frowned. Standing up, he stretched and made his way over to the door of his office. Opening it, he was stopped in his tracks by the sights and met his eyes.

It was raining. Actually more than raining, it was pouring. The wind had picked up but it had changed direction and was driving the rain in sheets against the buildings, causing the hard drops to thump against the wood and clatter upon the window panes. People were out in the street, celebrating. Yelling and cheering and slapping one another on the backs.

It was raining! Finally! And the wind had change direction. Finally! The fire was being beaten back. Finally!! Large drops of water splattered down upon the leaves and the trees and the foliage, creating their own kind of symphony as the dry ground became water-soaked. Hot ash and licking flames fought against the onslaught, trying to hold on to their advantage, but the tide had turned and the deluge from the heavens was winning the battle.

 

To Be Continued.


	7. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are still up in the air in Brookswood while Heyes and Miranda await word from home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this chapter posted. College is taking up more time that I remembered from the last time I attended!
> 
> Warning; Some adult content in this chapter.

Frustration

 

Miranda felt relief wash over her as she stepped back out onto the street. What an oppressive atmosphere! Or was it simply that she hadn't felt comfortable with the questions being asked of her? It was silly, really. David would have insisted on the same information but it had caught her off guard and she resented the intrusion. No wonder Hannibal became so frustrated with his situation and was habitually guarded with what information he was willing to divulge. 

Miranda hoped that she hadn't opened up another can of worms with her efforts to expedite matters. All they needed was more questions and yet another busybody trying to take control.

She hurried along, wanting to get to Hannibal and let him know what had transpired and also to assure him that the telegrams had been sent. Surely they would hear from someone today! She didn't think, not being from the criminal element, to cover her tracks or use an alternative route to the sheriff's office. It did not occur to her that she was being scrutinized.

Her attention was momentarily diverted by the sight of the coach preparing to leave for Santa Marta. Her heart sank as the realization hit her that they would not be making that trip. Not yet anyway. On the other hand, nor would they have to suffer the company of a certain offensive bore for the rest of the day either. She did a quick scan of the area and picked up her pace in the hopes of avoiding that particular couple as they prepared to continue with their journey.

Luck was with her and she got by without being noticed. Her anxiousness abated and she carried on towards the cool adobe building where her husband was being held and then nipped in the open doorway. She sighed with relief at having made the journey undeterred and smiled at the lawman currently in place.

“Good morning, Deputy,” she said. “Is Sheriff Nugent off duty?”

“He'll be back later,” the stalwart badge informed her. “You wanna set with yer husband fer a spell, that's fine. So long as ya' don't got nothin' on ya.”

Miranda heard her husband snort from inside his cell. She smiled indulgently at the deputy.

“I assure you I have plenty on me,” she told him. “but nothing that might constitute a weapon if that was your meaning.”

Miranda could see the blush beginning at the deputy's collar line and rise up to cover his whole face. 

“Oh,” the deputy shuffled and looked anywhere but in her eyes. “Sorry ma'am. Didn't mean no disrespect.”

“I'm sure.”

She smiled and returned to her usual place outside the cell. Hannibal came up and took her hand.

“Everything alright?” he asked her, having noted her concerned expression.

“I think so,” she said. “I got the telegrams sent off with explicit instructions for Sheriff Nugent to be notified as soon as any responses come in.”

“Well good,” Heyes agreed. “So what's wrong?”

“Well...” Miranda hesitated.

“What?”

“I went over to see the town doctor,” she informed him. “I thought maybe he could re-fill your vial. But I got a really bad feeling about him and then he started asking questions, wanting to know why you needed the sedative and even saying that he needed to speak to you before he could give me anything. I just didn't like the situation, so I left. I don't know. He might not even give us anything now, even with David's approval. I think he thinks I was trying to get it for some underhanded mischief.”

Heyes started to laugh but stifled it when he got hit with his wife's indignant glare.

“I wouldn't worry about it,” he assured her. “If the doctor here won't give it to us then David can send the directions on to the doctor in Santa Marta. Might be better that way. The less complications the better.”

“Yes, I suppose. We've missed the coach anyway,” she informed him. “they were just packing up and getting ready to pull out as I was coming over here.”

“Oh,” Heyes seemed a little disappointed. “Well, I kind of figured we were out of luck where that was concerned. Probably better, considering the company we would have been keeping.”

“Yes!”

“Besides!” he declared with an impish grin. “You're rich; we can afford to hire our own coach!”

Randa laughed and gave him a punch on the arm.

“You scoundrel! But you're right. As soon as this mess is all cleared up, we'll hire our own coach and arrive in style!”

“Yes!”

“Well,” Miranda took a glance around the cell. “I see you finally decided to eat some breakfast. I, however, am hungry. I'm going to go to the cafe and get a nice cup of tea and a scone and perhaps some cheese if they have any. Can I bring you anything?”

“A book,” Heyes requested. “Doesn't matter which one. Either of the ones in my carpet bag will do.”

“Alright,” Miranda agreed. “I'll get you your book first and then I absolutely must get something to eat.”

Xxx

Miranda sat quietly in the cafe. There was a teapot on the table next to her and a plate showing the remnants of a scone with jam and soft cheese left over from her light brunch. She held the half full cup of tea in her hands and stared out the window at the people going by. She noted that many were Mexican and smiled to herself at the observation. Hardly surprising, considering how close they were to the international border. Close and yet so far.

This little held over had been an eye-opener for Miranda. A real glimpse into her husband's past and a forewarning of what his future was likely to be. Her future now too, as she was inexorably connected to him, not only in matrimony but in love as well. He was her life, and she hoped she was his. But what was this life going to be?

He had been an outlaw. Of course she had realized this right from the start, but what she hadn't realized was how that fact was going to stay with him, stay with them for the rest of their lives. Perhaps even for the rest of their children's lives. 

If he'd been some two-bit outlaw who got fed up with the life and decided to go straight then it wouldn't have mattered. But no; he had to be the best at whatever he decided to do. He had to make a name for himself. And that name had travelled far. Much farther than the man himself. People knew his name on the East Coast; Philadelphia, New York. Just mention the name of Hannibal Heyes and ears perked up and eyes lit with recognition.

They didn't know the man himself. All they had to go on were the newspaper articles embellishing the daring train robberies of the infamous Devil's Hole Gang. The cunning bravado of the charismatic gang leader who had been able to break into the most secure safes ever made. The newspapers had lapped it up. They loved stories like that—stories that presented the Wild West as a dangerous and yet romantic place to be. Or rather; not to be! Papers and dime novels had sold like mad whenever Hannibal Heyes and the Devil's Hole Gang pulled off yet another daring robbery in the middle of the day!

Miranda smiled quietly to herself as she recalled her husband's indignation over the discount bin. This had been what he and Jed wanted these days—to be forgotten about, for the West and the East to move on to other things and not care anymore about Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry. But actually seeing their popularity get chopped down to half price must have been deflating for someone who had grown accustomed to being on top.

Their current situation drifted back over her reminiscing, and now Miranda sat, suddenly understanding her husband's reluctance to disclose his personal information. Why his hackles went up when a nosey sheriff started asking questions. The same questions, over and over again. The mistrust in their eyes, the suspicion. His word wasn't good enough. He had more honour than most of the lawmen who came after him, yet his word wasn't good enough.

Miranda sighed and took a sip of her tea. Here she was, getting angry over the injustices shown to her husband. But were they really injustices? As his friend and mentor, Silky O'Sullivan had pointed out, Heyes had been the best of the up and comers. A master conman who could charm the gold out of a banker's pockets and, apparently, a lady out of her skirts and still sleep well that night after having done so.

And yet Miranda trusted him. She wouldn't have married him if she felt that she could not. All the people who knew him now, trusted him. They knew he was making good, that he was changing his life around. And he was living up to their trust. But people who didn't know him other than by reputation still saw only the outlaw. Still saw someone who had to be watched and suspected. Still someone to be questioned.

And now Miranda had had her first taste of being pressured for answers she didn't want to give. She knew Hannibal was uncomfortable with discussing his ailment. Again, people suspected its cause and effect. People looked at him suspiciously and were passing judgement. They weren't letting him start his life over again, they weren't letting him be his own man.

Miranda sighed again, took another sip of tea and decided that the pot was done. She came up out of her musings and was getting organized to leave when she spotted the tall, spindly doctor briskly walking towards the sheriff's office.

She frowned in a mixture of irritation and concern. What was he up to? Had the matter not been closed? She would wait for word from their own doctor, that is what she had told him and she had expected her decision to be respected. 

She dug into her belt purse and extracted payment plus gratuity for the light brunch and then exited the cafe. Following the doctor towards the office, she was becoming more and more irritated by the man's audacity with each step she took. He better not be expecting payment for an unsolicited house call once all was said and done!

Miranda hurried through the alcove of the sheriff's office and quickly did a scan of the area. The deputy glanced up at her as she entered but he didn't even bother to remove his booted feet from the top of the desk to stand up for the lady. Randa ignored him and focused her attention on the tall, crooked form of the doctor standing over by her husband. She frowned her irritation.

“Why are you here?” she asked the medical man. “I told you that we would consult our own doctor.”

Dr. Shandal turned and sent her a condescending smile.

“I don't like to think that there is someone in pain when I am in a position to help them” he informed her. “I can see now why your husband could not come to me, so I thought it best that I come to him.”

Miranda met her husband's eyes and Heyes rolled them with his own mild irritation.

“Well it wasn't necessary,” Miranda persisted as she came to stand close to her husband. “As you can see he is not in any pain. We will wait until our own doctor can send the refill.”

“As I explained to you before ma'am,” Shandal continued. “I cannot supply any medication without first examining the patient. It could be days before your own doctor can contact me with the information. I'm right here. What is the harm in a few innocent questions?”

“Deputy!” Miranda turned to the lawman. “is there not something you can do about this? I do not wish this man in here, interrogating my husband. Do we not have any say in this matter?”

The deputy stretched and yawned, his boots still resting atop the desk. He seemed in no hurry to adjust his position.

“Nope,” he commented. “If'n the Doc wants ta' exam a prisoner then it's best let 'im do it. Especially if'n he thinks there might be some risk to the public health.”

“Risk to the public health!?” Miranda was incensed. “What...?”

“Never mind,” Hannibal told her. “You're the one who has been telling me that I should be more open about this. What's the harm? Let him ask his questions and be done with it.”

“There, you see?” The doctor smiled condescendingly at the wife. “Your husband is making sense. You would be wise to follow his lead.”

Miranda ignored the tone and stepped in closer to the bars and took her husband's hand in hers. 

“No, Hannibal. I don't feel right about this. Let's just wait until David gets in touch.”

“But nobody's getting in touch!” Heyes' frustration was coming through in his tone. “What in the world is everybody up to back home? I might have to get something mild to help me sleep anyway. You know what it's like for me, being cooped up like this. I won't sleep.”

Miranda sighed and nodded agreement.

“Yes, I know. Alright.” She turned to the doctor. “Go ahead and ask your questions. But don't expect to get paid for this call. You were not requested to come here.”

“Indeed,” the doctor agreed. “Just a few short questions then. So, Mr...?”

“Heyes,” Hannibal informed him and noted with some relief that the penny hadn't dropped.

“Mr. Heyes. You wife stated that you have a problem with cramps, and your doctor gives you a sedative to relieve them, is that correct?”

Heyes smiled at his wife's obvious attempt at whitewashing the ailment.

“Not exactly, Dr. Shandal,” he admitted. “My regular doctor knows of my history with head injuries and he's concerned that I may start having seizures. It's just a precaution. I did have one bout with it but it's highly unlikely...” Heyes stopped in mid-sentence as he noticed the doctor's eyes widen with alarm and the medical man took an involuntary step backwards. “What?”

“Seizures? Your wife said muscle cramps.”

“Well yes, I suppose they are...”

“Mr. Heyes, there is a big difference between seizures and muscle cramps.” Dr. Shandal informed him. “If you have what I think you have, then it is a good thing you are already contained. This disease is highly contagious and must be treated accordingly.”

“Contagious?” Heyes repeated incredulously. “It's not contagious...”

“Has your doctor told you what you are suffering from?” Shandal asked haughtily.

Heyes hesitated. He was not liking the tone that this conversation was taking, and suddenly his wife's caution was making sense. His friends kept telling him to relax and to stop hiding in the shrubbery as though everyone was out to get him. And yet whenever he tried to take that advice, it seems that he ended up in trouble. There were times that he seriously considered bring Joshua Smith back into play when he was out and about on personal business.

Shandal sighed when he was met with a defensive look accompanied with silence.

“Is it Epilepsy?” he asked.

Heyes lips tightened as his suspicions grew. Still, it was all the answer the doctor needed.

“Deputy!” The doctor quickly retreated from the cell bars and made a beeline for the front door. “Where is Sheriff Nugent? I must speak with him immediately. This man is not to leave that cell, no matter what! I must get hold of the sanitarium and make arrangements...” and his voice faded away as he exited the office and hurried on his way towards his home.

Hannibal and Miranda exchanged alarmed looks.

“Sanitarium?” Heyes repeated as the colour drained from his face. “What the hell is that suppose to mean?”

Miranda's grip tightened on his arm.

“I've sent a telegram to David,” she assured him. “He and Steven have to get in touch soon. We'll get this sorted out. Deputy, where is Sheriff Nugent?”

The deputy finally lifted his feet off the desk and allowed the chair to fall forward. The front legs had barely touched down when he pulled out his battered pocket watch and checked the time.

“Should be here any minute,” the deputy informed them. “That is if the doc ain't ambushed 'im along the way.”

“What was he talking about?” Miranda demanded. “A sanitarium because of seizures? What does he mean?”

The deputy shrugged. “Beats me. All that medical mumbo jumbo goes right over my head. He did seem kind'a perturbed though, didn't he?”

Miranda turned back to her unusually quiet husband. Hannibal was looking concerned.

“What do I do?” she asked him.

Heyes took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair.

“I don't know,” he admitted and then began to pace. “Whatever you do, don't sign any papers.”

“No, of course not!”

He took another deep breath and stopped for a moment, his thoughts going inwards.

“I remember Kid and I helped Abi out once, years ago. A friend of hers had been committed to a sanitarium by her husband,” he informed his wife. “Abi suspected the husband's motives and asked us to go in undercover to see what we could find out.” He paled noticeably as he recalled the horrors he had witnessed in that hellish institution. “It was a nightmare,” he continued. “It'd be worse than prison. Just being there would drive a person insane.” *  
He began to pace again as his mind got over the shock and kicked into full gear. He had already grasped hold of the problem and was beginning to think it through. “There are a few things in our favour here. A person has to be committed by someone, usually a family member and then that has to be seconded by a doctor's agreement. Now, not even a doctor can simply decide to commit someone on his own. He has to have at least one other doctor to also agree.”

He stopped pacing again and looked into his wife's worried eyes. 

“That gives us some time,” he continued. “He can't simply decide he's going to commit someone. It's not that easy. But we do have to get in touch with David and Steven. Now more than ever. Why aren't they answering!?”

“I just sent the three telegrams to Brookswood,” she said. “Hopefully we will hear something by tonight.”

“But why hasn't Steven gotten in touch?” Heyes was rambling. He knew it was a rhetorical questions but it forced its way out despite that knowledge. “Maybe we should send one to Kenny as well, and Lom. Maybe Big Mac...”

Miranda sighed.

“Well, I can,” she agreed dubiously. “but honestly I don't see the point. If they're still in Brookswood then they'll get the messages along with Jed and David. If they've already left then neither of them would be home yet. Try to be patient.”

Heyes grumbled and paced. Miranda sat with him for the better part of the day, doing her best to keep his spirits up and his mind occupied. But the day dragged on and still no word from home. 

Heyes felt panic begin to take over. Just how much power did this doctor have? Could he really have him committed to a sanitarium simply on his own cognisance? That didn't seem right, that couldn't be right. Why would David lie to him? If epilepsy was contagious, wouldn't David have told him so? But if it was contagious, then where did he get it from? He didn't know anyone who had these seizures. Not even in prison. And everybody knew everything about everybody in prison.

What was he going to do? He couldn't let himself be committed. No. It wasn't going to happen. David and Steven would not permit it, and Miranda would fight tooth and nail. She would never sign papers giving the doctor permission for this. It wasn't going to happen. He told himself this over and over again. It wasn't going to happen.

Heyes had been so preoccupied with pacing his cell and grappling with this problem that he hadn't noticed Sheriff Nugent return to the office and relieve his deputy. But he did notice that ten minutes after Miranda had left to get some supper, Dr. Shandal made a return visit with documents in hand.

“What's this?” Nugent asked as the doctor slapped the pages down on his desk.

“Just sign here, Sheriff,” Shandal instructed him. “This line and then this one. That's all you need to do.”

Heyes perked up and moved to the bars closest to the office. Nugent sat up straighter and picked up the sheets of paper.

“What do you mean; just sign here?” Nugent asked indignantly. “I'm not going to just sign something without reading it. What is this?”

“It's nothing you need to worry about, Sheriff,” Shandal persisted. “It's all medical jargon, you won't understand it anyway. All you need to do is sign it.”

“Don't do it, Sheriff!” Heyes called from his cell. “He's trying to get me locked up in a sanitarium, but he's got nothin' to go on. Don't do it. Wait until my own doctor can get down here and clarify things.”

Shandal pushed himself up to the full height of his twisted frame and bristled at the prisoner.

“There is nothing to clarify,” he insisted indignantly. “You have a contagious disease, and you must be contained.”

“Hang on just a minute,” Nugent demanded as he stood up and came around his desk. “What do you mean he has a contagious disease?”

“This man has epilepsy,” Shandal informed the lawman. 

“I've never heard of that,” Nugent admitted. “Just what exactly is ep..i..lep..sy?”

“It is a highly infectious disease of the mind and body.” the doctor explained impatiently. “He cannot be permitted to roam freely. I'm surprised his wife hasn't contracted it by this time.” He turned his dark beady eyes towards the prisoner and stared at him accusingly. “Any respectable man would have sent his wife away to save her from the misery of the disease. As it stands, she will probably come down with it as well and that will be it. There is no cure and it will only get worse. It starts out by causing violent muscle spasms but that is just the beginning. The seizures will move up to the brain and very quickly cause insanity.  
“Those sufferers who have been found in time and put into strict isolation all follow the same pattern. Why, it has been shown beyond a doubt that people suffering from this affliction only become worse after being incarcerated. And that's with treatment! They become extremely violent and some have even become murderous. It is insidious!”

“The only reason they become worse,” Heyes yelled back. “is because they've been thrown into that hellhole! That would drive anybody insane!”

“Those hospitals are very modern,” Shandal countered. “You should consider yourself lucky to be living in an enlightened age. Why, it used to be that people like you were considered to be possessed and were burned at the stake!”

“Enlightened!?” Heyes retorted with a snort. “The law gives a doctor the right to lock somebody up and throw away the key just because of some seizures! How is that enlightened!?”

“It's for your own welfare,” Shandal insisted. “You're not safe...”

“The only thing I'm not safe from is you!”

“STOP!” Nugent had had enough. “Nobody is doing anything or going anywhere until I get to the bottom of this.”

“If you'll just sign the paper, Sheriff,” Shandal pushed. “then all this can be taken care of simply and quickly, before he actually has the chance to infect any of us. If he hasn't already...”

Nugent held his hand up for silence.

“A couple of minutes to read this over, Doc,” he insisted. “Then I'll decide if I'm going to sign it or not.”

Shandal backed off with reluctance. He and Heyes stood silently and glared at each other until such time as the sheriff had completed his reading.

“Okay,” Nugent commented and Heyes' heart skipped a beat.

“No Sheriff, you can't!”

Again the hand came up to bring silence.

“Says here that you also need the signature of a family member,” Nugent pointed out. “and though I haven't known Mrs. Heyes for very long I doubt she would be willing to sign this.”

“A signature from yourself and a second doctor could override that clause,” Shandal countered. “But I'm sure that once I explain the situation to Mrs. Heyes she will be quite happy to sign.”

Heyes snorted. “Not on your life!”

“I'm sure once she realizes how ill you are, she will be relieved to have professionals taking things over,” Shandal predicted. “The womenfolk do have such a hard time understanding medical conditions.”

Even Nugent's brow went up at that comment. Heyes threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

“You're nuts!” he yelled back. “My wife will never sign that—especially not on your say-so alone. This is ridiculous. I'm not sick!”

Shandal turned his back on the prisoner and focused his attention on the only sane person in the office.

“I would appreciate it if you would respect my authority here and agree to sign the paper, Sheriff,” he attempted to persuade. “If the wife doesn't have the common sense to see wisdom, or is perhaps already afflicted by this disease and therefore not thinking clearly, then your signature and that of another doctor will see it done.”

“I'm sorry, Doc,” Nugent disappointed him. “I value your opinion in most things. But this is serious. We're talking about a man's life here. I'm going to have to get more than your opinion alone before I make any decision on this.”

Shandal frowned at his authority being questioned. 

“Fine,” he snarked. “but be it on your head if this becomes an epidemic. If you're going to insist I can get in touch with Dr. Benson over in Gila Bend. He's usually very helpful and will appreciate that I know what I'm talking about.”

“All the more reason not to get him!” Heyes pointed out. “Come on! My own doctor knows me better than anybody. He knows my history. He can be here in two or three days. Why bring in another doctor who doesn't know anything about me!”

“Your own doctor is likely to be biased, Mr. Heyes,” Shandal pointed out. “And if he was giving you sedatives to treat this condition then I can only assume that he is a country bumpkin who has no clue what he is dealing with.”

Heyes growled, and clutching the bars he shook them until his knuckles turned white.

“Who's calling who a country bumpkin!” he exclaimed. “Dr. Gibson will put you to shame. He'll run you into the ground..!”

“Settle.” Nugent called order again. “We've been trying to get hold of your lawyer Mr. Heyes and we haven't had much luck. What are the chances of your doctor being any easier to track down?”

“These people are probably figments of his already diseased mind,” Shandal cut in with a sniff. “I doubt they even exist. See how this affliction works Sheriff? He believes his own illusion so completely...”

“Don't give me that!” Heyes retorted. “These people exist! Steven Granger is an established lawyer who lives in Denver—the sheriff can check up on that quite easily.”

“I already have,” Nugent assured him. “We had to verify we were sending the telegram to an actual lawyer and not just a ruse on your part to stall for time. I assure you Doc, Mr. Granger does exist and I'm willing to bet that his doctor does as well. The only question that remains is why are they not getting in touch?”

“I don't know!” Heyes threw up his hands again and began pacing. “My wife sent more telegrams this morning, I'm sure somebody will respond soon.”

“Uh huh,” Nugent sounded sceptical. “Well, if your doctor and your lawyer get in touch and can be down here quickly then fine, but in the meantime I think it best that we contact Dr. Benson just in case we can't get hold of Dr. Gibson.”

“I see no point in bringing a third doctor into this situation,” Shandal commented. “It would just be a waste of the man's time. Nor do we need some city slicker lawyer coming here and stirring up trouble. It's just a simple matter of...”

“But he is Mr. Heyes' regular doctor,” Nugent pointed out. “He would need to be informed of the situation in any case. And he has the right to have a lawyer represent him. I'd kind of like to get more information on this situation myself. This is a new one on me. If we cannot get in touch with him then Dr. Benson will have to do. But Mr. Heyes still has the right to legal council, even if it's not his own lawyer and even if he is not of sound mind! He has a right to a second medical opinion and I for one need some kind of legal advice before I'm signing anything! Are we agreeable to this?”

“Fine,” Shandal responded with tight lips. “If you insist on wasting time and putting this whole town at risk. I'm simply stating that the situation needs to be handled as quickly as possible and Dr. Benson can be here...”

“It's not fine with me!” Heyes countered. “I want my own doctor. I at least have that right!”

“If we can find him!” Nugent was becoming exasperated. “Are we agreed!?”

“Fine,” Shandal repeated and snatching up the documents from the desk, he stomped out the door.

Nugent sent a pointed look to Heyes. Heyes stood silently, his lips tightened in stubborn refusal.

“Are we agreed, Mr. Heyes?”

Heyes gave the bars one more shake and then once again, threw his hands up in sheer frustration.

“Fine!”

“Good.”

Heyes turned away and resumed his agitated pacing around the confines of his cell. Finally he stopped and hit the bars with his fist. The pain shot through his fingers and up into his wrist but he refused to acknowledge it. His anger exploded and lifting his eyes to the heavens, he shouted at the top of his lungs.

“DAVID!”

Xxx

David awoke with a start. He couldn't even remember coming to bed. He stretched and yawned, then rubbed his eyes, trying to further wake himself up. The first thing he noticed was that it was light out but not a morning light—it was full-blown daylight. And here he was, lazing around in bed? He groaned and glanced over to his right. He was also alone in bed.

What was going on? Was he sick or injured? He settled and did a quick inventory of all his body parts. Everything seemed fine, just tired. Boy, was he tired. He should get up, but he didn't want to. He knew that Jesse was still a patient here in his home, and he should be available to tend to him. This was odd. Usually, when he had a patient under his care, he slept very lightly and would be up every few hours to check on them. Why had he not done so this time? He was getting old. Forty loomed on the horizon...

He really should get up. He closed his eyes and drifted into a warm and comfortable doze.

“Papa! Get up!”

David jerked back to fully awake, when his son jumped onto the bed and began to shake him.

“C'mon Papa!” the exuberant child insisted. “You've been asleep for hours.”

David groaned and rubbed his eyes, but Nathan cuddled up against him and wanted a kiss. David smiled and hugged him close, kissing him on the forehead. Footsteps in the doorway let both men of the household know that the matron had arrived.

“Oh Nathan!” Tricia scolded the boy. “Leave your father alone. He was up all night.”

“No, it's alright,” David grumbled as he forced himself into a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I should get up and check on everyone.”

“Everybody's fine, David,” Tricia assured him as she took her son's hand and ushered him towards the door. “Go back to sleep for awhile.”

As tempting as that suggestion was, David knew he couldn't do it. He was awake now, and his natural instincts as a healer came into play. He wouldn't be able to rest until he had checked up on his two resident patients. He stood up and pulling on some casual clothing, he took quick note of the bassinet at the foot of their bed. It was empty and he wondered if his daughter was still over at Heyes' place.

He smiled, almost wickedly. Poor Jed, stuck in a house full of children and women. Hopefully he got some sleep last night—or that would actually be today. Everyone had been up late, and then the arrival of the rain had given them all a temporary burst of energy, only to have them crash that much harder as the dawn light had forced its way through the heavy clouds.

Yawning again, he scratched his scalp. Coming into the hallway he quietly tapped on the first door he came to.

“Come in,” Bridget answered from inside.

David opened the door to his son's room and found Steven sitting up against a thick pile of pillows, while Bridget was tenderly feeding him stew. Both greeted him with open smiles, though Steven still looked a little pale and dreary around the gills.

“How are you this morning...ah—afternoon?” the doctor asked.

“I feel pretty good, David,” Steven assured him. “Good enough in fact, to head over to our own hotel room and let you get your house back. I sure wouldn't mind a real nice supper over at the restaurant either.”

“Something wrong with my wife's cooking?” David asked in mock indignation.

Bridget giggled. “I'm sure Tricia would like to get her kitchen back to normal, too,” she said. “So much excitement over the last few days. It seemed like it would never end. But Steven really is doing much better. He can rest just as comfortably in our hotel room.”

“Yes,” David agreed. “I'm sure you're right. But don't go anywhere until I have a chance to check you over. Alright?”

Bridged and Steven smiled and answered in unison.

“Yes David.”

David smiled in acceptance of the teasing, and with a quiet wave of his hand, he headed down the hallway towards the guest room. Approaching the kitchen, with all the enticing aromas that this room often held, he suddenly felt his own tummy gurgle in anticipation of food. Stepping in to the lighted and cozy space, he smiled at greeting to the occupants.

Belle was sitting at the kitchen table, having a cup of tea and holding the sleeping Eleanor while Tricia was busy getting supper going. Nathan had run outside to join his friends playing in the rain puddles and Tricia had given up any efforts of keeping her son clean or dry. 

David put a hand on Belle's shoulder in just as much a greeting as it was a quick exam. He could tell so much about a person's condition through this casual touch and it was so innocent, he didn't need to worry about permission or explanations. Belle sighed and smiled up at him through tired eyes.

“How is he?” the doctor asked.

“He's still asleep,” Belle told him. “but he does seem to be breathing a little easier today.”

“Good,” David responded. “Did you get any sleep today?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “Oddly enough, the sound of the rain kept me awake.”

David nodded, though he expected that it was more than just the sound of the rain.

“If Steven is better today, then he and Bridget can return to their hotel room,” David informed her. “You might be more comfortable sleeping in that room for now.”

Belle's expression almost turned to panic.

“Oh no,” she didn't like that. “I want to stay by his side, just in case.”

“There'll always be someone here, Belle,” he assured her. “I'm keeping him sedated now anyway. It's not likely he's going to wake up soon. You need your sleep too.”

Belle was about to protest further, when Tricia interrupted the discussion.

“Would you like some coffee, David?” she asked him. “Supper's going to be awhile.”

David sighed appreciatively. “Oh yes, I would like some. But give me a minute. I want to give my two patients a checking over and give myself a wash. Then coffee would be wonderful.”

Tricia nodded absently as she tended to the cooking. She had already known this would be her husband's response, and she left him to it. 

David quietly entered the guest room where Jesse was sleeping and closed the door upon the working household. He went over to the chair beside the bed and settling into it, he took a few moments to scrutinize his patient. Once he picked up the ever ready stethoscope, he went through the normal procedure of checking the heart rate, listening to the ease of breathing as well as assessing skin temperature and texture.

Everything was well within the range David had expected. The broken bones had been set or taped up and the burns and cuts had been cleaned and treated and left open to the air to heal. Fortunately nothing had needed stitches, but his friend was still going to be very sore when he woke up. David smiled. Knowing Jesse, he wasn't going to be happy about being confined to bed, not with all the cleaning up that the ranch was going to be requiring.

That was too bad though. Jesse was just going to have to leave that job to the young bucks. Jed, well Jed wasn't going to be up for much, not for a few days, anyway. And Sam, well he was mostly just tired. David wouldn't be surprised if he had recovered enough and was heading home with his family. Sam was a pretty good foreman and was probably already thinking about getting the men organized out at the Double J in order to get the ranch up and running again. Ben would help.

Ben. David frowned. Where was Ben? David couldn't recall seeing him since the day the fire had started. His family did have their own ranch on the other side of Brookswood, perhaps he had gone there to help protect the property. But that section hadn't really been in jeopardy, and Ben hardly seemed like the type to shirk his duty when all hands were needed. 

These last few days had been so confusing. It was difficult to keep track of where everybody was at any given moment. Ben would show up eventually, David was sure of it. There were still work crews out there, doing clean up and looking for people who might have been injured and stranded somewhere by the fire. It's very likely that the doctor's duties weren't done yet.

Jesse moaned slightly in his sleep, and David's thoughts were drawn back to his patient. He was looking tired and drawn these days, even before his serious injury. The stress of battling this fire and of the worry over possible damage it could do to his livestock and timber must have been weighing heavy on him. David knew that Jesse and Scott Medgar had plans to amalgamate their breeding programs, and a wild fire sweeping through the ranch lands might have destroyed more than just the property itself.

But the fates had been with them, in this regard in any case. Due to the efforts of most of the county pulling together and the last minute help from Mother Nature herself, the fire had been stopped before too much of the prime timber stands had been lost. How much livestock perished due to the blaze remained to be seen, but animals seems to know where to go to get away from a fire as long as they're free to go there and didn't get surrounded by it.

It would take time to get things up and running normally again, but would get done. Jesse was just going to have to accept the fact that even without his injuries, he was no longer a young man. Into his sixties now, David wondered how the tough rancher kept going. Yet he did. And not just dragging himself through the days either, but with a purposeful stride and an amused twinkle in his eye. Jesse would probably say it was his children who kept him young, that and a good woman by his side. You have family, you can overcome just about anything.

David agreed that this probably was a good rule to live by, and Jesse certainly had proved it over and over again. The doctor could only hope he himself would have as much energy and enthusiasm when he got to be Jesse's age. Right now, he didn't feel too optimistic about it because he couldn't remember the last time his body ached this badly.

The bedroom door opened quietly, and Tricia poked her head in.

“I brought you your coffee,” she informed him quietly.

“Oh yes,” David sighed. “Thank you.”

Tricia stepped into the room and handed the steaming beverage to her husband.

“How is he?” she asked.

“As well as can be expect,” David assured her. “I think he'll come out of this alright. He's a fighter.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Now, if we can just get Belle to take some rest,” the doctor continued. “It wouldn't do to have her collapsing on us.”

Tricia gave David a gentle hug as he tried to sip his coffee.

“I think I can persuade her to go take a nap,” she offered. “She can go lie down in our room.”

David nodded agreement.

A sudden, almost frantic knocking pounded against their front door and the couple exchanged a frustrated look.

“What now?” David grumbled.

“I'll get it,” Tricia offered.

“No, no,” David stood up and headed out of the room. “It's probably for me anyway.”

Belle, still cradling the sleeping infant, had gone to open the front door and found herself encountering a young man whom she did not know yet. His bright blue eyes were wide with concern but also clouded by exhaustion. He was covered in dirt and soot, and to make matters worse, he was soaked through and through from the downpour that had started the previous night.

“Is the doc here, ma'am?” he asked as soon as the door was opened.

“Yes, just...”

“It's alright Belle,” David said from behind her. “I've got it. You go sit down and finish your tea. You look done in.” He turned his attention to the visitor. “What's happened?”

“We got a whole wagonload of injured fellas, Doc!” the messenger announced. “I donno, maybe some of 'em's dead. I donno. We took 'em into Little Mountain, but there ain't no doc there, so we came on here. I donno, it's pretty bad. They could all be dead by now, I donno...”

“Yes alright. Let me get my bag.”

“Hurry Doc!”

“Yes!” David snapped back, then instantly regretted his lapse. “Yes, I'm coming. Has the sheriff been informed?”

“Hell, I donno! I just come ta' get you.”

“I'll come to help,” Tricia offered as she retrieved her husband's emergency bag from the top shelf.

“No,” David declined. “I need you here to keep an eye on Jesse and...” he leaned in to give his wife a hug and whispered in her ear. “...give Belle some laudanum, see if you can get her to rest.” He pulled back as Tricia nodded her understanding. “Send Bridget over to John's place. If he or Mary aren't too tired, one of them can assist me. Perhaps Merle and Maribelle are still in town, and Martha will be at the hotel. Damn, even Isabelle, if push comes to shove!”

“Yes alright. Just go David. I'll see who I can find.”

Xxx

Jed felt consciousness gradually pulling him up from sleep. He groaned inside his head because he didn't want to wake up. He was warm and comfortable and would have happily stayed nestled under the blanket indefinitely. Then he swallowed, or at least tried to. He groaned for real as his throat burned and closed in around the saliva and, as much as he didn't want to, he automatically swallowed again and with more conviction this time, to insure that everything went down the right way.

“It's about time you woke up, Sleepy Head.”

Jed smiled at the sound of his wife's soft voice. He had yet to even try to open his eyes but he shifted slightly until he felt her warm body next to him on the bed. His hand searched for her to find that she was sitting on top of the comforter with her back resting against the headboard. He frowned and forced his itchy eyes open to see what was going on.

His frown turned into a smile, as his slightly blurry vision took in the smudged form of Beth smiling down at him. She was wearing the yellow summer frock he liked so much because, not only did the colour suit her long blonde hair, and bring out the rich darkness of her brown eyes, but the material was soft to the touch and it had a way of flowing over her figure that he found extremely enticing.

Beth liked it because it buttoned down the front and this made it easy for her to do exactly was she was doing at that moment. The buttons were undone to her waist along with the camisole underneath and both garments were pulled down off her one shoulder to expose her breast. Thaddeus was suckling happily and making so much noise about it, Jed wondered briefly why he hadn't heard him before.

“Good morning,” he greeted his family.

“Morning?” Beth giggled. “It's late afternoon. You slept through the whole day.”

“What?”

“That's good though,” she assured him. “You needed it.”

“Ohhh.” Jed stretched and yawned, despite the soreness of his throat. “I feel like I've been through the wars.”

“You have been,” Beth agreed. “You were exhausted. Do you even remember coming to bed?”

“No.”

“I didn't think so.”

Jed sighed deeply and pushed himself and his pillow up so he could rest against the headboard beside his wife. He opened up his arm to her and she snuggled into his embrace. He brought his other arm around and joined his wife in cuddling their son. There were still times, and this was one of them, when he couldn't quite believe his good fortune. He stroked his son's head as the child contentedly suckled and kneaded the breast, so engrossed in his own dinner that he barely acknowledged his father's touch.

Beth snuggled in against him even more and he knew he was caught in that moment, that one special instant in time when contentment filled his heart and life was perfect. He savoured the moment for the short time it lasted, before the thoughts and concerns of real life drifted into his mind and the idyllic bubble liquefied and oozed away.

“How is your pa?” 

“Resting,” Beth informed him. “I went by earlier to find out and to see how Mama was doing. David is confident that he will recover, it's just going to take time.”

“He won't like that,” Jed prophesized. “You know what your pa is like—he's gonna wanna be out there with everyone else ta' get the ranch put to rights.” 

“Oh I know,” Beth chuckled. “He's not going to have any choice though. He will have to leave that to us. And you know David—he won't hesitate to knock Papa out if he gets stubborn about it.”

“Ha ha! Yes Beth, darlin'. You have that right.”

“Ah, here we go,” Beth commented as the baby began to squirm.

T.J. had pulled away from the teat and was beginning to whimper. His protesting was so adamant that he very nearly wiggled his way out of his mother's gentle cuddle.

“Oh my! He's such a strong boy,” she commented. “I best get up and walk him. Can you put that bib over my shoulder for me?”

Jed spied the cloth laying on the night stand and he was quick to snatch it up and drape it across his wife's shoulder. She readjusted the baby and then swinging her legs off the bed, she stood up and began to walk back and forth while patting the child on the back.

Jed settled back against his pillow, and with a sappy smile on his face, watched the procedure. Even the very basic act of burping a baby held wonder for him now. It was strangely satisfying and erotic all at once and he couldn't take his eyes off them. T.J. gurgled and burped and did his fair share of spitting up but the young mother took it all in stride. She continued to walk the length of the bed and back again while cooing softly and patting the baby's back.

“There you go,” she soothed him gently. “You ready to settle now?”

A big yawn was her answer and she laid him into the bassinet at the foot of the bed and made sure he was comfortable. Straightening up, she began to pull her sleeve back up on her shoulders when she heard an unmistakable groan from her husband.

“What?” she asked with a mischievous chuckle. 

“That's cruel,” Jed responded. “You strut around here, half nekked, lettin' another man fondle ya' shamelessly, and as soon as he's had his way with ya', yer gonna cover up without givin' yer husband a second thought?”

Beth gave him a look of reproach and came to sit down on the bed again.

“I was only thinking of your welfare,” she teased him. “You must still be exhausted. Are you sure you're up to...oh, never mind. I can see that you are.”

Jed growled playfully and grabbing her around the waist, he pulled those two round, plump breasts into his face. Beth laughed, trying to keep it quiet so as not to disturb the others in the household but she couldn't help the giggle as Jed pulled her completely onto the bed with him. His mouth found her teat and he latched on just as possessively as his son had done, until he got a serving, and he instantly let it go.

“Aww plaaa...!”

“What do you mean, plaaa?!” Beth admonished him. “That's precious Mother's Milk. You can't get that just anywhere you know? T.J. is quite partial to it.”

“Yeah well, he may be partial,” Jed agreed as he tried to wipe off his tongue. “but I'd prefer a nice cold beer myself.” He pulled her deeper under the comforter with him and nuzzled her close, cupping her warm breast in his hand. “I miss your tits,” he whispered. “I miss nibbling on your nipples, pinching your pinkies, tantalizing your tulips...”

“Jed!” Beth protested then groaned as his hand quickly found its way under her skirt, his fingers pushing into her with hesitation. She gasped with erotic pleasure as she allowed herself to be pulled underneath him and he continued to kiss her throat.

“When will your tits be mine again?” he asked her between kisses.

“Depends if you want to share or not,” Beth informed him with a soft sigh, her breathing beginning to quicken. “I expect T.J. will want at least a full half possession for the next year or so.”

“A year?” Jed groaned in mock disappointment as his other hand came down to squeeze a hard nipple. “I'm not sure if I can stay away from them for a full year.”

“Careful,” she cautioned him. “You might get an eye full doing that.”

“The way my eyes are feeling right now, any moisture might be welcome,” he whispered in her ear.

His hand down there made a quick manoeuvre and sliding her under him even more, he mounted her and instantly felt his probing head locate and then sink into her warm softness.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! “Hello! Anybody at home?!” KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

All three occupants of the bedroom jumped with the sudden interruption and T.J. began to cry. Jed and Beth both groaned in disappointment as the proverbial bucket of ice water was dumped onto their lovemaking. 

Running feet were heard charging down the hallway and J.J.'s voice called out at full volume.

“We're home!” he announced as he opened the front door to their visitor. “What do you want?”

“J.J.! That's no way to greet a guest,” came Merle's admonishment. “I apologize Bridget. Come in. You looked soaked.

“No, no, that's alright Merle. I want to get back to Steven,” Bridget's breathless voice informed them. “Another wagon just come into town with more injuries. David sent me over here to see if anyone can come help.”

“Oh dear!” Merle responded. “This isn't over yet is it?”

“No ma'am,” Bridget agreed as her retreating words were muffled by the rain. “Come as quick as you can...”

“What was that all about Mother?” Maribelle's voice now joined the discussion.

“More injuries,” Merle informed her. “We need to get over there to help.” A sudden knocking sounded against the bedroom door. “Beth! Jed! Are you two awake? Oh, I suppose that was a silly question, wasn't it? Considering T.J. is crying up a storm...”

“Yes Merle!” Beth responded, trying to hide her disappointment. “We're both awake. We'll be right out.” She met her husband's blue eyes and smiled sadly. “I better tend to T.J.”

Jed nodded but wasn't quite able to let her go. He tried to back out but she was like a quiet whirlpool that would not give up its treasure. He succumbed to the magnetic pull and thrust into her all the way, just one time and then held her close, held her tight. She returned his hug, then pulled away from him and arose to attend to the crying infant. Jed groaned and dropped his face into the pillows. Now he really didn't want to get up.

Xxx

Clayt made his way back towards the telegraph office, holding the collar of his coat up over his head as he dodged fresh puddles in the road. A light rain was still falling, helping to turn the dusty streets of the town into a slippery thoroughfare. The top layer of dust had quickly turned into mud that floated upon the surface of the hard baked dirt underneath that refused to allow the water to penetrate. Dirty puddles had formed in the ruts from wagon wheels and it was all one could do to keep one's feet dry.

He was hurrying through the warm rain to get back to his office. He couldn't believe he had slept this long and he didn't fully trust young Wade to keep on top of the incoming telegrams. He truly had only meant to nap for a couple of hours but those good intentions had quickly dissolved into dreams as his own exhaustion took over. Awakening to see the afternoon light, made darker by the heavy cloud cover, misting in through his window, had set his heart to racing.

Coming in through the front door of his office, Clayt quickly shook off his coat and tried to wipe the wet dirt from his boots. On the other side of the counter, young Wade perked up with relief as his boss put in an appearance.

“Finally you're here,” Wade greeted him. “I can't seem to keep up with everything.”

“What is all this?” Clayt frowned as he came into the work area. “This is a mess! Haven't you been organizing everything the way I showed you?”

“They were all coming in so quickly!” Wade tried to defend himself. “I couldn't keep track of it. I have tried. I mean, these are for the sheriff, there's a couple here for the doc. But these others, I don't know! They're for people I ain't never heard of.”

“Were any of them important?” Clayt asked. “do they need to be delivered right away?”

“I donno!” Wade wailed. “I didn't read 'em! I just wrote 'em down as fast as I could.”

“Alright, alright,” Clayt noted the rising panic in his assistant and came forward to take over. “Let me see what we have here.”

He came up to the desk and surveyed the paper littered surface with some consternation. It all reminded him to strongly of his dream from the previous night. This was going to take forever to sort through. He gave a defeated sigh and sat down beside the now quiet telegraphy machine.

“Go over to the cafe and get me a pot of coffee,” he told the young man. Then get some rest. Be back here in a couple of hours. Hopefully I'll have all this sorted out by then and you can deliver them to the appropriate recipients.”

“Yeah okay,” Wade sounded relieved. “I'll be right back with your coffee.”

“Fine.”

Wade left the office as Clayt gave yet another sigh and set about organizing the muddle he'd been left with.

Most of the telegrams were from friends and family from other areas asking for information concerning loved ones. These, Clayt set aside as low priority, and he'd get them delivered once things started to settle down. There was a whole stack of telegrams for Sheriff Jacobs, and these were also set aside in their own pile to be delivered as soon as possible.

There was one for that warden fella, what was his name? Clayt read the addressee. Oh yeah, Reece. Looked like it was from his wife. Another one wanting reassurance that all was well. He set that aside with the low priority. Slowly he made his way through the pile, sorting them out as he saw fit. He was so focused on his task, he didn't noticed Wade returning with the coffee and setting a steaming cup down under his nose. Five minutes after Wade left, Clayt picked up the coffee cup and took a gulp and it never occurred to him to wonder how the cup had arrived there.

He jumped and let loose a curse when the machine began to clackety clack again. He set aside the notes he was sorting through and picked up a pencil to jot down the message. Odd, this one was being forwarded to Brookswood from Denver and it was for that lawyer fellow. Clayt wondered why the telegrapher in Denver had felt this important enough to send along to them. Couldn't it have waited until the Grangers got back home? Didn't he have enough to deal with, without someone's business mail adding to the pile?

He'd just finished sending back a confirmation when his machine went into action again. He wrote the message down quickly, shaking his head as he realized that this was also a re-directed message. This one was for Sheriff Trevors. Right after that, another one came in for Jed Curry and then another one again, for the doc. Jeez, as if Doc Gibson weren't busy enough!

Xxx

David sloshed his way out towards the wagon waiting for him in front of the sheriff's office. Jacobs was standing by the dropped tailgate and, even through the rain and increasing darkness of the heavy clouds, David could see that his expression was not one of hopefulness. Pulling his collar up and the tip of his hat down against the steady rain, the doctor gave up trying to avoid puddles and accepted the inevitable wet feet as he approached the rain-soaked vehicle. 

The two men driving the wagon had done the best they could to stretch a tarp up across the bed in order to protect the passengers from getting wet, but the attempt was feeble at best. 

Everyone was soaked, including the horses, who stood miserably by the hitching rail, their manes and tails slick against their wet hides. Water ran from their forelocks to travel down their long faces until reaching the noses and cascading off their whiskers to splatter into the mud. Eyes closed and ears flopped dripping to the side, they waited patiently for a warm dry stall and some hot mash.

“Carl,” David greeted the lawman. “What do we have here?”

Jacobs shook his head, sending more water dancing off his hat brim. “I ain't a doctor, but I think these fellas would do better with the undertaker than they will with you. I don't think any of 'em are still alive.”

David's heart sank as he pulled himself up into the bed of the wagon. There were eight men laid out with two of them completely covered over by blankets. The other six lay motionless, their pale faces shining through the bleakness of the weather and the mood. His heart and his hope sank even deeper as he pulled out his stethoscope and then carefully made his way to the furthest man and began the process of checking for vitals.

“I don't think I recognize any of these men,” David commented as he worked through the depressing line. “Are they from around here?”

“Nope,” Jacobs informed him. “There were work crews from all over fighting this fire.” He looked to the two young men who had brought the wagon in. “Where did you find them?”

“They were in an area between here and Castle Rock,” explained Bill, the teenager who was riding shotgun. “I guess the fire over took 'em. Them six was holed up in a cave, but the smoke still got 'em, I figure. At least a couple 'a them fellas was still alive when we found 'em. You sayin' they ain't now?”

David remained silent as he continued his examinations.

“There must have been other towns closer than us,” Jacobs pointed out. “Why'd ya' bring 'em all the way here?”

“It's like I told the Doc,” Frank, the young man who had come to fetch David in the first place, explained defensively, “There weren't no doctors in them other towns. We knew there was one here, so this is where we headed. What else was we suppose ta' do?”

“No, it's alright,” David assured them. “You did what you could. Best thing we can do now is get them under cover and try to find their families. Or, more likely, they'll find us. Are there still people missing from our area?”

“Sure are,” Jacobs admitted. “Things can't help but get confusing. It's goin' to take a while yet to track everybody down.”

David nodded and turned to the two men who were covered over.

“Ah, fair warnin, Doc,” Bill said. “Them two didn't make it to the cave, if'n ya' get my meanin'. Far as I can tell, one of 'em busted a leg and the other was tryin' ta' help 'im. The fire caught both of 'em.”

David nodded. “You may not want to see this, Carl.”

Carl snorted. “I've seen plenty in my day, Doc. And I've been through fires before too. I know what they can do to a man. You gotta take a look, so take it. I ain't squeamish.”

“Afternoon folks,” came a voice out of the gloom. “How is it looking?”

All four men turned to the sound, just as Doc Mullin solidified out of the rain.

“Oh, sorry to disturb you, John,” David greeted him. “Turns out, I don't think I'll need you.”

“Oh dear,” John mumbled. “Not one of them?”

David shook his head. “No.”

While David gently pulled the blanket back from the two bodies, nobody there was above feeling a sense of nausea to some degree or another. The two men were unrecognizable. The only areas that weren't charred black were where large red blisters had burst open and bits of unburned flesh and bone shone through the black. David covered them up again.

A moment of silence followed as the rain rattled a beat against the pointless tarp.

“No way to identify them here,” David quietly commented, feeling uncomfortable with the mood shift. “I could send them on to Denver. The hospital there has a forensics doctor on staff. He might be able to come up with something.”

“A foreign what?” Frank asked while he and his buddy shrugged at each other.

“Forensics,” David corrected them. “Someone who, well, specializes in dead bodies.”

“Ya' mean, there's actually doctors who do that?” asked Bill. “What's the point of bein' a doctor if'n all yer doin' is lookin' at dead bodies? It ain't like you can bring 'em back ta' life.”

David sighed, thinking that the answer should have been quite obvious.

“Isn't it worth something if we can identify who these poor men are, in order to give their families closure?” he pointed out. “Not to mention it can help to solve certain crimes in more ways than you could imagine. Mrs. Stewart was particularly skilled in this particular vocation as I recall.”

The two young men looked confused. Actually, so did Jacobs.

“Mrs. Stewart?”

“Yes. Hannibal's friend.”

“I know who you mean, Doc,” Jacobs commented with a touch of indignation. “I just don't know what you mean. She did a real fine job of solving that little mystery, but are you sayin' that little woman also spent her time pokin' around dead bodies?”

“I understand that she had been known to do so, yes,” David told him, and the ghost of a smile flitted across his face. “Not to mention that rather eccentric friend of hers, Dr. Betham. She was quite capable.”

“Well, then why don't we just get one of those ladies in here to take a look at these fellas?” Jacobs asked reasonably. “Might be easier than sending them on to Denver.”

“Mainly because I don't know where they are,” David pointed out. “I don't even think Hannibal knows that, and even if he did, I have no idea where he is! He's probably somewhere in Mexico by now.”

“I don't know about you fellas,” John cut in. “but I ain't a young fool no more. I'm goin' home and get outa this rain. Besides, I got a patient I'm still tendin' to.”

“Oh yes,” David acknowledged as he got down off the tail gate. “How is Kenny doing?”

“Better,” John informed them. “I don't want him up and about just yet, but he'll be on the mend in another day or two.”

“Ben! Ben!” a woman's beseeching voice called out from the boardwalk. “Is my Ben in that wagon!?”

“Oh damn,” Jacobs cursed under his breath, then turned to block the elderly lady from getting a close look at the grisly cargo. “Now Mrs. Bolton, this is no place for you to be. C'mon Dale, you and your wife shouldn't be out here!”

“Sheriff Jacobs is right Louise,” Mr. Bolton tried to distract his wife. “Let's get over to the hotel and out of this rain.”

“But I have to see...!”

“Here's not the place,” Jacobs insisted. “I know you're worried about your son, but these fellas come by Castle Rock way. I doubt that Ben is here. Did you see Ben in there, Doc?”

David sent Carl a quick frown for dragging him into this.

“Not with those fellas,” he assured the couple, quickly covering his irritation. 

“But that's the way he went!” Mrs. Bolton insisted. “After he was though helping Mr. Jordan, he stayed with us on the ranch until we knew the fire wasn't coming our way, and then he took off to help up there. We haven't seen him since. What about those ones, under the blankets?”

She made a move to reach for the covering but both David and Carl were quick to stop her.

“No no, he's not there!” David insisted. “Give the undertaker a couple of hours to get these other fellas cleaned up, and then you can go over there and check them, alright?”

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Bolton didn't seem inclined to move. She gazed into the wagon at the men laid out on the bed and tried to get a clear view of their faces. Her hat was a sodden mess by this time as, what had initially started out as a light misty rain, turned into a downpour and the flowery material had finally given up its form and flopped wet and dripping over her crown. Rain drops splashed over her forehead and down her cheeks making it hard to tell if she were crying or not.

David felt for her and put an arm around her shoulders.

“I'm sure he's not in there, Mrs. Bolton,” he comforted her. “I got a good look at each of those young men and I didn't recognize any of them. I'm sure he'll show up soon. There's still plenty of fellas out there, cleaning up. Isn't that right Carl?”

“Oh!” Carl was taken by surprise. “Yes ma'am, that's right. This rain is coming down awfully heavy now Do you folks have a place to stay?

“Yes we do,” Mr. Bolton assured the sheriff. “A friend here in town is putting us up.”

“Good. I suggest you go back there and get yourselves warmed up. Some nice tea or something.”

“Yes Sheriff, that's a good idea,” Mr. Bolton agreed as he began to lead his wife back towards the boardwalk. “There's nothing we can do right now. Let's go get a nice cup of tea.”

“Yes, yes, I suppose you're right,” Louise muttered as the couple sloshed their way towards the hotel. “A nice cup of tea would go down very well right now.”

David and Jacobs both sighed with relief, and then together they looked at the blanket covering the burned bodies.

“You don't actually think...?” Carl asked hesitantly.

“I don't know,” David confessed. “I sure hope not.”

“You fellas done?” asked Bill as he hugged his sopping shoulders and shivered. “If they's all dead, I'd kinda like ta' get 'em over to the undertaker's and find ourselves a place for the night. Who'd a thought it could get this cold after bein' so dang hot fer so long.”

“Yeah, you fellas go on,” Jacobs told them. “The church is still offering up cots for folks who are from out of town. Probably got a good stew or something going, too.”

Bill and Frank nodded, and hauling themselves up into the driver's seat, they clucked the wet horses to attention and headed the wagon towards the undertaker's.

Jacobs sighed. “It's gettin' late, Doc. Go home and get some shut-eye.”

“I just got up,” David mumbled. “Still, I wouldn't mind...”

“Doc! Sheriff Jacobs!”

“Oh, what now,” Jacobs grumbled as water poured from his hat brim.

Both men turned to the ghostly form of a man struggling through the mire towards them. With the heavy rain and the darkening skies, the newcomer was almost to them before either man recognized who he was.

“Glad I found you two together,” Wade announced as he approached. “I got some telegrams for both of ya'. Hopefully they ain't too important 'cause everything has been kinda' confusin' at the office. Too much comin' in at once, ya' know?”

“Yeah, yeah Wade,” Jacobs answered him. “Just hand 'em over.”

“Yeah okay.” Wade dug into his slicker and pulled out four envelopes. He frowned as he scrutinized the names on the paper and then had even more trouble reading them as the rain beat upon the ink and sent it all running. “Ahh, yeah jeez. I think these two is for you, Doc, and then these are for you, Sheriff.” He shrugged. “I suppose if they's mixed up, you'll know who's got yers.”

“Uh huh,” Jacobs didn't sound too impressed as he accepted his messages.

“Thank you, Wade,” David was a little more accommodating. “I think I'll take these home and dry them out before I read them.”

“Good idea,” Jacobs agreed. “See ya' later, Doc.”

“Oh, but wait!” Wade stopped them in their tracks. “I got a couple here for Mr. Curry. One fer that lawyer fella and one fer the warden. Any idea where they are?”

Jacobs sent a pointed look to David. David nodded.

“Mr. Granger better still be at my place,” the doctor stated. “Mr. Reece is at John's place. Though I must warn you, he's most likely asleep. Jed Curry is...”

“Right here,” came Jed's voice from out of the gloom. “I would'a been here sooner, but I couldn't find ya'. I thought you were all over at David's place. What happened to the wagon full 'a injured men?”

“It turned out to be a wagon full of the dead,” David informed him cryptically. “You didn't get out of bed for this, did you?”

Jed scowled. “As a matter of fact I did, and then some.” He sighed resignedly. “Still, I'm up now. Might as well go see how Kenny is doing.”

“I got a telegram fer ya', Mr. Curry,” Wade announced as he waved the envelope through the rain drops. “One fer that sheriff friend of yer's, ah Travors? And one for Mr. Reece too. Maybe you could take it to 'im.”

“Yeah sure, why not. The one for Reece in any case,” Jed accepted as he snatched the waving paper out of mid swing. “Headin' there anyway. Lom and Martha should be at the hotel.”

“Okay,” Wade nodded, sending more water splashing about. “I'll make sure he gets it.”

“I got some looters I suppose I can kick loose,” Jacobs announced. “Serve 'em right to have to find their way home in the rain.” He smiled wickedly. “Then explain to their women folk where they've been all day. See you fellas in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Carl.”

“Yeah, goodnight, Sheriff.”

“'night.”

“How are you feeling, Jed?”

“Jeez, David, can't you ever let the doctor go?” Jed asked him. “It's dark, it's wet and it's actually cold out here. I'll see ya' in the morning, alright?”

David smiled and nodded through the rain. Somebody had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this afternoon.

“Yeah okay; you're right,” he agreed as a shiver went through him. Come see me in the morning.”

“Yeah.” 

Jed followed along in John's tracks, not that he could see the tracks anymore. The whole street was awash, and if this rain didn't ease up soon they'd be having flash floods to worry about instead of the fire.

He bowed his head and hunched his shoulders against the rain, wishing he had his old reliable sheep skin coat with him right now. His nose wrinkled in reflection. That coat was warm, but boy, when it got wet it could really stink, and Heyes hadn't minded letting him know either. Too many years riding the trails and sitting around camp fires for the odours to be beaten out of that old piece of suede and wool. Still, as another shiver went through him, he conceded that it would be welcome right about now.

He wisely held on to the railing as he walked up the steps to the Mullins' front door. He knew how slippery these wooden boards could get, when a sudden rain storm hit them after days of hot sun. He was sore enough from his excursions without adding to the misery by taking a fall right here on the doctor's front porch.

Coming in under cover, he removed his hat and did the best he could to shake the water off it before pulling the bell and awaiting entrance. Nancy Mullin opened the door and Jed was hit full in the face by the enticing aroma of fresh baked bread and roasting chicken. His stomach growled. Hopefully the sound of the rain pounding on the wood covered it up.

“Howdy Ma'am,” Jed greeted her. “didn't mean to interrupt your supper. Just wonderin' if my friend was awake and up for a visit?”

“Oh Jed! Of course...umm...” Her expression turned to concern as she noted the steady dripping splattering from the sleeves and hem of the light jacket. “Just, yes come in. You can hang your jacket here in the mud room, and perhaps your boots...”

“Aw Ma'am, I think my boots are the only things keepin' the water in,” Jed informed her. “I best leave 'em on 'till I get home. Don't want to risk floodin' ya' outa house and home.”

“Oh.”

“That's alright, young man,” John's voice came from the sitting room, shortly followed by the man himself. He was dressed in his house coat and slippers and was contentedly smoking his pipe. “You go right on in and have a visit. Short one though, don't want to over-tax him.”

“Thanks Doc.”

“Very well.” Nancy smiled up at their dripping guest. “Watch your step. I'll just carry on getting supper ready.”

Nancy disappeared into the kitchen, and Jed felt a moment of uncertainty when John also threatened to retreat.

“Ah Doc, where is he?”

John turned back to the visitor with a crease upon his brow.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “You helped me carry him in there. Don't you remember doing that?”

Jed sighed and shook his head.

“I was so tired at that point, I don't remember much 'a anything,” he admitted. “Just point me in the right direction, will ya'?”

John smiled and nodded.

“Of course. It's just that second door on the right. Still, if you find yourself not remembering other things, you let me know, alright? Or let David know.”

“Yeah right,” Jed mumbled sarcastically under his breath as he sloshed his way down the hall. “I tell David that he'll be gettin' me pokin' myself with needles.”

Jed tapped lightly on the appropriate door and opened it just a crack so he could peer in.

Kenny was lying on his back with his eyes closed but looking quite comfortable despite the bruising on his forehead and the sling holding his right arm in place. 

“Kenny, you awake?”

Kenny opened his eyes to tired slits, turned toward the voice and then smiled.

“Yes Jed, I'm awake. Come in.”

Jed stepped in, and closing the door behind him, he walked over the to bed and pulled a chair around so he could sit down.

“You're squeaking,” Kenny noticed.

“Yeah, my boots are wet,” Jed explained. “Ain't ya' noticed? It's rainin' like mad out there.”

“It is?” Kenny asked, then lay quiet for a moment, trying to listen. “Ah, I was wondering what that rattling was.”

“You're lookin' better than ya' did last night,” Jed commented. “but you're still kinda' red around the edges. Your eyes are bloodshot.”

“I'm sure you're only seeing a reflection of your own.”

“And your voice is all raspy.”

“Heard yourself lately?”

The two men chuckled, and then both started to cough.

“Oh wow, sorry Ken,” Jed apologized as he cleared his throat. “You want some water?”

“Yeah.”

Jed poured water from the handy pitcher into the convenient glass and set the glass back down on the side table as Kenny struggled to sit up.

“Let me help ya',” Jed offered as he took hold of Kenny's good shoulder and helped to pull him up.

“Thanks,” Ken told him. “You have a polished bedside manner.”

“Yeah, well it comes from years a' nursemaidin' my partner,” Jed confided. “Heyes is no fun at all when he's hurtin'. Here, have a drink.”

Kenny smiled at Jed's griping but accepted the glass and indulged in a satisfying drink.

“Ah, that's better,” he said when he came up for air. “Throat's still awfully sore though.”

“Yeah, mine too.”

“You want some water?”

Their eyes met, and both started chuckling again.

“No, that's alright, Kenny,” Jed assured him as small water droplets danced playfully along the ends of his curls. “I think I've had enough water for now.”

Kenny nodded and placed the glass back on the nightstand. He put a hand to his chest and tentatively took in a couple of deep breaths.

“Ohh,” he complained. “I wonder if this is how Mr. Carlson feels all the time.”

“Never thought of that,” Jed admitted. “I might start treating him with a little more respect from now on.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh!” Jed dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out the telegrams. “Got a message here for ya'. Wade figures it's from Sarah.”

Ken noticeably brightened up.

“Oh, what's it say?”

“Just a minute. Let me open it for ya' and then you can read it yourself.”

Jed tore open the seal and unfolded the damp piece of paper. Kenny took it and peered with some concern at the bleeding ink.

“Hmm.”

“Can you read it?”

“Well, let's see.” Kenny squinted and moved the paper closer then further away in the hopes of making the smudged writing more legible. “Umm. 'No answer.' No answer to what?” Jed shrugged. “Ah, and the next word...let's see...'how...ah...you', I think.”

“How are you?” Jed asked.

Kenny shrugged then cringed slightly with the pain it caused. “Yes, I guess.”

“Anything else?”

“Let's see. '...comb...no. Come.' Yes that's it. Next word, hmm...'home? Come over...?'”

“Coming here?” Jed tried to help.

Again, Kenny shrugged but used only one shoulder. Both men turned to the sound of the door bell and then the unmistakable tones of Kenny's soft-spoken wife introducing herself to the couple. There were sounds of recognition from her previous visits for various weddings, then consternation. She pushed through the protesting doctor, and making her way down the hall, instinctively found her way to her husband's room. The door opened and Sarah, dripping wet from her walk from the train station, stood upon the threshold and gazed upon her bedridden husband.

“What am I to do with you?” she asked as relief flooded into her eyes. “When I didn't hear back from you I was fearing the worst.”

“Come,” Kenny said as he held out his arm to her. She quickly came to the bed and sitting on the edge, carefully entered in to her husband's embrace. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. This is the first telegram I've received.”

Sarah straightened up and took the wet piece of paper from her husband's hand.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled. “This is the third one I sent. The first one was when we got word of the fire. Then I didn't hear from you and...”

“Things have been really crazy here, Sarah,” Jed put in. “We were probably out on the line when the other's arrived. And then...”

“Oh hello Jed,” Sarah smiled at him. “I'm sorry. That was rude. I must have pushed right past you.”

“Yep.”

“What do you mean you were out on the line?” Sarah suddenly changed the subject. “You silly man! You were out there fighting a fire at your age?”

“Ah, I think I'll go now,” Jed interrupted. “I'll just leave you two ta'...well, anyway. I'll see you later, Ken.”

“Yeah, thanks, Jed.”

Jed grinned at the edge of sarcasm in the tone and made a hasty retreat. Suddenly, the two telegrams for him were burning a hole in his pocket. If those messages from Sarah had taken this long to get here, then what were his telegrams all about? And didn't Wade say there were others for Steven and David and Jacobs as well? And Lom too! Jeez! Lom too! They must be from Heyes. Who else could it be? They must be from him. Damn him, he was in trouble again! Fear took hold of him, and he broke into a run, splashing his way towards David's house 

 

Xxx

 

Yuma Arizona

 

Sheriff Nugent casually walked the beat of his daily rounds, making sure he put in an appearance at the local trouble spots as a reminder to the troublemakers that he was paying attention. Not surprisingly, the day was hot and most who didn't need to be outside, were taking cover inside the cooler adobe buildings and saving their mischief for the darker hours.

Hearing the jingle of harness in symphony with the beating of cantering hooves on the hard-baked dirt, he turned to watch as the coach and four pulled up in front of the hotel. Hit with sudden inspiration, Nugent followed his eyes and walked over to the stage, noting that the temperature seemed to rise by 10 degrees as he walked past the steaming, lathered horses.

“Hey George,” he greeted the dirt encrusted driver. “Any mail?”

“Yeah, but just the usual,” George answered as he stepped down to the ground. He did the gentlemanly thing and opened the door of the coach for the few passengers he'd brought with him, but had most of his attention on the conversation. “Seems the outlawin' profession is going into a bit of a dip—howdy ma'am. Hotel's right there in front of ya'. Your annual delivery of new wanted posters is the thinnest I've seen yet.”

“I'd say that's a good thing, wouldn't you?” Nugent asked him.

“Might put ya' out of a job—yes sir, right that way. Your luggage will be in directly.”

Nugent snorted through his handlebar moustache.

“Not likely. Enough still goin' on to keep a man like me busy.” He almost rolled his eyes at the thought of what the last few days had been like. This kind of busy he didn't need. “Say George,” the sheriff continued. “You get around a lot,” snort from George. “and you hear things most of us don't. Anything different goin' on up Denver way?”

“Funny you should ask that, Mike,” George commented as he climbed back up onto his coach to throw down the few items of luggage he had strapped up there. “Seems there was quite a fire up that'a way. Ah, it didn't really get that close to Denver though, so might not be affectin' what you might have in mind.”

“Well it might,” Nugent told him. “How big was this fire? Enough to keep people busy?”

“Yeah, from what I hear it was a humdinger,” George informed him. He picked up the mail sack and threw in over the side to land with a dusty thump next to where Nugent was standing. “Folks from all over the outlaying towns and ranches were busy fighting that thing for a few days, if not more. Lots a' timber got lost. Some lives too, I suppose.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” George jumped down again and hauled open the mail sack. “Here ya' go, Mike. They sure do make them envelopes all fancy and official lookin', don't they.”

“Well, it is from the Governor's Office,” Nugent pointed out as he scrutinized the seal. “So, do you know if a town called Brookswood was anywhere near that fire?”

“Hell, I donno,” George admitted as he heaved the mail sack onto his shoulder and began walking across the street to the mail room at the train station. “Could'a been. Why?”

“Just waiting to hear from some folks up that way!”

“Oh. Well, good luck.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

But George had disappeared into the station and the conversation was closed. He would be back in a few minutes to tend to his rig, but Nugent figured he had coaxed as much information out of him as he was going to. What he had learn was interesting enough. A fire up in that area could account for some of the mystery around Mr. Heyes' references, or lack there-of.

He was just turning to carry on to his office when he was stopped again, only this time it was somebody wanting to talk to him.

“Sheriff Nugent!” came the urgent call, and Nugent turned again to see the telegrapher making a rickety run in his direction. “Sheriff Nugent! Wait!”

“I'm waitin', Clarence,” the sheriff assured him. “don't be giving yourself a stroke, runnin' like that in this heat.”

Clarence came to a gasping stop in front of him and held up a small envelope in exaggerated triumph.

“That telegram you've been waitin' on has just arrived.”

“Oh good.” Nugent took the proffered paper. “But only one? What about the ones Mrs. Heyes sent?”

Clarence deflated. “How should I know? Dang, ain't nothin' good enough for you? You was waitin' to hear back from Brookswood, Colorado, and that's it! Take it or leave it!”

“Alright, alright,” Nugent waved him down a notch. “I was just wondering. Since we sent quite a number, I was expecting more than one response, that's all. I appreciate you bringing it to me.”

“Fine,” Clarence calmed down a bit. “I'll let ya' know if there's any more. Say, is there some kind of convention goin' on in town or something?”

“Convention?” Nugent frowned. “Not that I know of. Why?”

“Cause ole' Doc Shandal sent out a telegram to his good friend Mr. Benson, tellin' him to get hisself down here real quick. Needed him for some kind of a meetin' or something. He seemed real adamant about it too.”

“Really,” Nugent commented with a touch of irony. “I told him to hold off on that until...oh well, maybe it won't matter, now that this telegram has arrived. Besides Clarence, you shouldn't be spreading around what people send in their telegrams. What happened to discretion among telegraphers?”

“Ahhg.” Clarence waved it away. “Yer the law. On top of that, yer family owns half this town anyways. What ya' don't already know, ya' will soon enough. It ain't breakin' no code, tellin' you.”

“Yeah, alright,” Nugent dubiously accepted that; for one thing it was valuable information and he appreciated getting it. “Go get yourself a drink, Clarence. You look all done in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Clarence grumbled as he pulled off his red bandana and began wiping his sweating brow. “Sure hope this heat breaks soon. All this runnin' around is gettin' hard on an old man.”

The two men parted company, and Nugent continued on his way to the office. He was looking forward to getting into the coolness of that building, where he could go through his mail in some level of comfort. He sighed. Hopefully, Mr. Heyes would be quiet for a change.

 

Stepping into his office, Nugent quickly looked around and felt a sense of relief wash over him. Heyes and his wife were sitting and talking quietly together. Good. When Mrs. Heyes was around, Mr. Heyes was a lot more manageable and the sheriff felt the need of some quiet for a change.

“Alright Charlie, you can head on out for awhile,” Nugent told his deputy. “Go get some lunch or something.”

This suggestion was followed by the now familiar bang of the front legs of the chair hitting the floor and the deputy took his feet off the desk and straightened up.

“Thanks Sheriff,” he responded. “It's about that time.”

Charlie ambled out of the office and Nugent dropped his official parcel off at his desk, then leaning his butt against that piece of furniture, he casually opened the telegram. He was very much aware of the scrutiny being sent his way by the two people at the cell. They were just finishing up their lunch that apparently the wife had brought over with her, and both had been enticed by the sound of ripping paper. 

“I have just received some interesting news,” Nugent informed them as he casually glanced over the slip of paper. “Seems there has been quite a fire causing some havoc up in Arapahoe County. That is where you say you are living now, isn't it?”

Both Heyes and Miranda were on their feet instantly.

“A fire?” Heyes asked.

“On no,” Miranda felt fear clutch her heart. “How bad is it? Is everyone alright? Sally!”

Heyes started pacing, the relaxing lunch now forgotten.

“I don't know the details,” Nugent admitted. “but it might go a long way to explain why you haven't been hearing from anyone. Seems they've been a mite busy. Well, what do ya' know.” Nugent changed topic and smiled over the top of the telegram at the now frazzled couple. “Speak of the devil.”

“What?” asked Heyes.

Nugent stepped forward and handed Heyes the telegram. Heyes took it, and leaning against each other through the bars, he and his wife anxiously read the message.

“It's from the Kid,” Heyes informed the others. “Ahh, 'Sorry. Fire. Everyone fine. D and S on their way. Hold on. J.C.'”

Heyes' shoulders slumped in relief. Miranda smiled and ran an affectionate hand through his bangs.

“Finally,” she said. “And everyone's fine. That would certainly explain it, wouldn't it? If there was a fire, of course everybody would have been busy trying to save the ranches. No wonder we weren't hearing back from anyone. Oh, this is such a relief!”

“They're on their way,” Heyes chuckled, and his whole face relaxed with the relief.

“Still, Sally must be frightened,” Miranda surmised. “Perhaps I should head back.”

“No, no,” Heyes contradicted. “At least wait until David gets here. He can fill us in more on what's happening. Jed said everyone is fine. Besides, I don't want you to go.”

“I don't want you to go either,” Nugent interjected and was met with two slightly astonished looks. “I don't think you realize how hard you are to manage when your wife isn't around, Mr. Heyes,” Nugent explained. “At least when she's here, you stop that irritating pacing and I don't feel daggers stabbing me in the back. So I vote she stays.”

“Oh.”

Miranda smiled at the compliment.

Nugent stepped forward and retrieved the telegram to keep with his records. He had a feeling he might need to keep the paperwork on this strange situation and wanted to remain on top of things.

“Who are D and S?” he asked.

“David is my doctor and Steven is my lawyer,” Heyes informed him. “Both are friends.”

“Fine,” Nugent accepted that as he returned to his desk for the rest of his mail. “If they're lucky enough to get a fast train, they should be here in a couple of days.”

“Hmm, two more days in this place,” Heyes grumbled, yet his obvious relief was infectious.

“At least we know why we didn't hear from them,” Miranda pointed out. “and that they are one their way. Which means that we'll be on our way soon too. We might just make the next coach and not have to rent our own!”

“Ha! That would be convenient,” Heyes agreed. “Hopefully they won't charge us twice since we did miss the first one.”

“I'll make sure they don't,” Nugent commented as he scrutinized his new stack of wanted posters. His brow creased as he took a folded envelope from the pile and opened it up. “Well, what do ya' know about that?” he commented as he finished reading it over. “They actually got back to me.”

Heyes' natural curiosity couldn't help but take the bait. “What?”

Nugent smiled. “It's the document from Wyoming, all stamped and seal official. Despite what you might think of lawmen on the whole, I'm not a total idiot. Right after I detained you, I sent a telegram to the powers that be in Wyoming, informing them of the situation and requesting advice on what to do with you. I admit I'm surprised they got back this quickly.” He focused again on the document in his hand and began to read it out loud. 'Let it be known that Mr. Hannibal Ellstrom Heyes...' Ellstrom? Where'd that come from? Well, anyway...umm 'That Mr. Heyes has been granted a full pardon by the government of Wyoming and is to be considered a legal citizen of the United States. He is to be given full freedoms and is no longer bound by any restrictions other than the laws of the State of Wyoming and of The United States of America.' Well what do you know about that? Seems you were telling the truth after all.”

“Yeah, imagine that,” Heyes grumbled sarcastically. “Does this mean I can go now? That my friends don't have to come all the way down here?”

“Nope, it sure don't.” Nugent informed him. “It seems to me that you will still be in need of both your friends, Mr. Heyes. There is still the matter of your questionable medical condition.”

Heyes sighed and banged his forehead against the bars of his cell, then rested his head against his arm. Miranda reached a hand through and rubbed his shoulder.

“It's only a couple of more days,” she reasoned. “You should have a copy of your pardon on you anyway, and David is bringing your medication. And this time we will keep it with us, won't we Sweetheart?”

“Yes, Dear,” came the muffled baritone from his shirt sleeve.

Nugent chuckled. “Besides,” he commented. “I have word that Dr. Shandal has already summoned his friend Benson, and that worthy gentleman will likely be here by tomorrow. You're going to want to have both your professionals on hand for that.”

Nugent instantly regretted releasing this information as the atmosphere in the office darkened. The power of the ex-outlaw's charismatic personality came bursting from its seams and actually sent shock waves out from the cell to impact against the walls of the office. Even the experienced lawman felt an instant of apprehension as Heyes raised his head up from its resting position on his arm, his dark brown eyes turning to black.

“He's on his way?” Heyes reiterated. “He was suppose to wait until my own doctor could get here. I have that right! You said...”

“Hannibal...”

“I know, I know!” Nugent stood up and raised a placating hand. “Shandal did it behind my back. But he's not going to get away with it. You do have the right to your own doctor and your own legal council. No papers will get signed, and nobody is going anywhere until that happens.”

“Well why can't you just let me out?” Heyes demanded. “I won't go anywhere, I promise. I just need to get out of this damn cell!”

“Can't do it,” Nugent denied him. “It doesn't sound right to me, but what if ole' Doc Shandal is correct and what you got is contagious? I let out of there and you're walking around town, spreading that epa...whatever everywhere you go. I can't take that chance.”

“If it was contagious then you have already been exposed to it!” Heyes countered. “Your deputy too, as well as my wife, and you're all walking around town!”

“You're not helping your case here, Mr. Heyes,” Nugent warned him. “But you're right. The fact that your wife has been in your company for some time, and apparently hasn't shown any signs of the disease, makes me highly sceptical that it is contagious. But I have to do things by the book here. You will stay in that cell until your doctor can show that you are not a risk to yourself or to others.”

“Arrggg!” Heyes grabbed the bars in his frustration and tried to rattle them, though he wasn't too successful.

Nugent threw up his arms in defeat and returned to his desk to focus on his paperwork. He was quite content to let Mrs. Heyes deal with the bear now.

“Come on Hannibal, calm down,” Miranda soothed as she continued to rub his back. “Would you like me to get some good coffee from the restaurant? Actually some tea and scones would be nice right about now. It'd help you to relax.”

“Hmm.”

“Would you like me to bring you another book?” she continued. “How about a couple of those nickel novels you bought? Those might be good for a laugh. I might just sit here over tea and scones and read them with you. I always wanted to find out more about your life as an outlaw, and what better place to go?”

“Yeah, right.”

“I'm sure they must be quite accurate,” she continued, facetiously. “The authors wouldn't be able to publish them if they hadn't done their research, now would they?”

“Snort.”

“Those books are probably better than your own memories,” she insisted. “We all know how time can erode our recollections. Let me go get them. If nothing else, they'll help pass the time. Alright?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

Miranda gave him one final shoulder rub and headed for the front door. She and Nugent locked eyes for a moment and she smiled at him. The sheriff felt relief wash over him and he snuck a glance towards the prisoner. Mr. Heyes did seem to calm down some and Nugent cocked a smile as it occurred to him that Mr. Heyes had indeed married the right woman. 

Somewhere along the way, Mrs. Heyes had snared Charlie into helping her bring a bag full of dime novels and a fully laden tray from the hotel over to the office. Charlie had looked a bit awkward delivering that tea service and Nugent hoped he wouldn't trip over his own spurs and make a mess of things.

Fortunately, the clumsy deputy managed to handle the job and soon, Miranda was seated in her usual place by the bars and the couple were enjoying the company and their respite.

Nugent didn't want to leave the office until he was sure the prisoner had settled enough to not cause any problems. He sent Charlie out to do the afternoon rounds and settled in to read the newspaper and drink coffee.

It wasn't long before laughter from the cell began to disturb the seriousness of the daily news, and the sheriff found his curiosity piqued. He stood up, and trying not to be too intrusive, he intruded on the couple, who were hunched over and reading a small book.

“What do you have there?” the sheriff asked.

Miranda smiled up at him, he eyes twinkling with merriment.

“You won't believe how ridiculous these stories are!” she laughed. “How in the world do they get away with writing this stuff?”

“Let's see,” Nugent requested and held out a hand.

Heyes felt a momentary irritation, but Miranda instantly handed him a book, then stood up and began pointing out certain passages for him to read. 

“Look at this!” she said with a giggle. “Can you imagine?”

“Oh good heavens.”

“And here!” she exclaimed, flipping the pages to another section. “They actually have Hannibal shaking hands with Marshal Morrison, and they become good buddies.”

“Even I know that's not likely,” Nugent commented.

Heyes chuckled, his irritation passing and he stood up with another book.

“Look here,” he instructed as he passed the book through the bars and pointed out the section. “This one claims I have a twin brother running around impersonating me and causing all sorts of trouble. Apparently my parents didn't die in the raid, they got divorced instead, and they each took one of us to raise. Imagine two of me running around!”

Nugent laughed. “That would explain a lot.”

“And where is that one you were looking at, Randa?” Heyes asked. “Where the Kid kidnapped the Mayor's daughter, and they actually fall in love. Of course, knowing the Kid that's not really too far-fetched, but the Mayor's daughter? That's supposed to be my story!”

“The mayor's daughter, huh?”

“Yeah!” Heyes nodded. “And in this one...” he reached to his cot and grabbing another book he waved it under the sheriff's nose. “Talk about blood and guts. Apparently I made a habit of running around and murdering deputies. Better tell Charlie to watch his step. No wonder I got twenty years to life.”

“It was your idea to go for the amnesty?” Nugent asked as he flipped through another book.

“Well...” Heyes looked a little sheepish. “Actually no. It was the Kid's. I didn't think we could get it. I didn't even want to try, but Kid, he kinda' talked me into it.”

“Hmm, says here it was the other way around,” Nugent commented as he read. “Says that he was constantly wanting to rob banks and trains and that you were always having to keep him on the straight and narrow.”

Heyes' brow creased in indignant irritation.

“What!?” he demanded as he snatched the book away from the sheriff.

Nugent cocked a brow at him but then pointed out the passage.

Heyes' lips tightened. “That's not right at all,” he refuted. “I mean, we both had our moments of weakness, but we tended to keep each other going. Damn, that's not right at all. Maybe I should hire Steven to sue this idiot. He's got no call to run the Kid down like that.”

“Hannibal, relax,” Miranda was trying not to laugh at her husband's indignation. “They're just silly novels. You can't take them seriously.”

“I suppose,” Heyes agreed. “Still, it would be nice if they could get some of the facts straight.”

“It says here that you were the mastermind,” Miranda pointed out. “They got that right.”

Heyes grinned. “Yeah, they did, didn't they?”

Before too long, Nugent was leaning against the bars of the cell, and the three of them were flipping through the books and laughing at all the different scenarios that make up the context of a typical dime novel. By the time Charlie returned to let the sheriff go get his own supper, the atmosphere in the office was one of joviality, and the deputy did a quick check to make sure he was in the right place.

“Ahh, Sheriff? You wanna go fer yer supper break?” 

“Oh yes,” Nugent straightened up and returned to the front. “Yes, thank you, Charlie. I believe I'll do just that.”

“Okay. Ahh, ya want me ta' take the night shift?” he asked. “You been here most 'a the day.”

Nugent's expression became more serious, and he sent a quick glance to the cell. Heyes and Miranda had returned to their seated positions and were quietly talking to one another. Things were calmed down now, but Nugent wondered what the quieter night would bring, when Heyes' overactive mind would start to spin and he didn't have his wife for company.

“No,” he told his deputy. “I think I'll stay here tonight. I'll get some sleep in the other cell there, if I'm a mind to.”

“You sure?” Charlie asked hopefully; he hated night shift. “I don't mind stayin'.”

“I'm sure,” Nugent put his deputy's fears to rest. “I'll get some supper and be right back.”

“Okay.”

“Mrs. Heyes?”

Miranda looked over at them. “Yes?”

“I'm going to get my supper right now,” he informed her. “I'll be bringing your husband's meal back with me afterwards. Would you like me to bring you something as well?”

“Oh yes. Thank you Sheriff. I would appreciate that.”

“Fine.”

“I could do with a beer, Sheriff.”

“Ah huh. Charlie, I'll see you in an hour or so.”

“Yessir, Sheriff.”

The evening passed by pleasantly enough, considering the circumstances. The couple sat and spoke quietly together while the sheriff busied himself with the never ending paperwork. By 10:00 Miranda was struggling to keep her eyes open and as much as Heyes wanted his wife's company, he sent her off to the hotel to get some rest.

Watching her lovely figure walking away, he sighed with resignation and then settled himself onto his cot. He knew the night would pass slowly, they usually did under these circumstances. He glanced towards the sheriff who was still sitting at his desk, illuminated by the soft light that was never totally exterminated, and knew that the lawman would probably be up most of the night himself.

He knew that he was the cause of the sheriff's enforced lack of sleep, but he didn't care. Served him right, detaining innocent people who were only looking to enjoy their honeymoon. Heyes sighed again and rolled over, away from the light and tried to settle in to sleep.

Xxx

The following day started out quietly enough. Too quiet as far as Heyes was concerned. This day after day of pacing around his cell was beginning to feel too much like 'old home week'. The main difference being that he wasn't getting even an hour a day relief from the confines of this cell.

On the other hand, his main visitor was far more appreciated than any he had received in Cheyenne. He wasn't sure how he would be getting through this if it wasn't for Miranda. He would have managed somehow, but having her standing by him made the situation far more tolerable than it would have been otherwise.

Then, just after Miranda had left to tend to lunch, the day took a turn for the worse. The apparent coincidental timing of the visit was not lost on the prisoner and his hackles rose at the sound of the doctor's voice.

“Deputy,” Shandal greeted the lawman. “Good to see yo so diligently attending to your duties.”

A loud snort emanated from the desk area, followed by the customary banging of chair legs on the wooden floor.

“What the hell!” Charlie grappled to his feet, whisking yesterday's paper into the atmosphere. “Oh Doc. Jeez, ya' shouldn't come sneakin' up on a body that'a way. I might'a shot ya' or something.”

“Yes, quite,” was the doctor's cryptic response. “The is Dr. Benson. He's here to examin the prisoner.”

Heyes stopped his casual stroll. Now on high alert as every muscle in his body tensed, like a cat ready to scramble for the nearest cover. The fact that here was no cover, created such intense energy within the confines of the cell that the other three men present looked his way with apprehension.

“Ah...yeah,” Charlie recovered himself. “Howdy there Doc.”

“How do you do, Deputy,” Benson extended a hand. “Is this the patient in question?”

Without waiting for an answer, Benson stepped over to the cell, but made sure to stop well out of range of the man confined within it.

Where Shandal was tall and then, and crooked in his stance, Benson was quite the opposite. A man deprived of extensive height, he made up for it by adopting a straight posture with shoulders back and head held high.

It gave him a haughty look that implied good breeding and an even better education. It also gave him the appearance of looking down his nose at his subject even though Heyes stood two inches taller.

The two men stared at each other, neither one wavering from the intensity of the other. Silence and heat simmered through the office as one minute turned into two and neither man moved.

Finally Dr. Benson smiled and he stepped forward, offering his hand.

Heyes stepped back from this unexpected event. He had dealt with too many snakes in the grass to be taken in by a friendly smile and an extended hand.

“Oh come, come, Mr. Heyes,” Benson chided him. “No need for concern. I only wish to speak with you.” 

“Ahh...” Charlie stepped between the prisoner and the two doctors. “I'm not so sure that's a good idee.”

“Why not?” Benson asked most innocently. “I'm merely here to fa visit. Is the prisoner not allowed visitors?”

“Well...”

“Don't listen to him Deputy,” Heyes advised from his cell. “Now, you know my own doctor is on his way here, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you also know that the sheriff said that I have the right to my own doctor and lawyer to be present before anything happened. Right!”

“Yeah, that's true.”

“What's going to happen?” Benson asked. “A simple exchange of information is all.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“Deputy!” Heyes was beginning to feel desperate. “Wait until the sheriff gets back!”

The deputy nodded, trying to look confident. “Yeah.”

“Where is the sheriff?” Shandal enquired.

“Aw, he's just gone out ta' the Miller place,” Charlie informed them. “Somethin' about a missing cow.”

“Will he be back soon?” Shandal continued.

“You know he won't be!” Heyes accused him. “That's why you waited before coming here. You know he'd be gone for the afternoon!”

“Oh really, Mr. Heyes,” Shandal protested. “I can hardly predict a stolen cow. Besides, this is very much to our disadvantage that the sheriff is not here. Dr. Benson's time is valuable. He has his own practice to get back to.”

“Doubly disappointing then, since his services are not required,” Heyes pointed out. “As I said; my own doctor is on his way and will be here by morning.”

“All I need is to ask Dr. Shandal's patient a few easy questions,” Benson interjected. “What's the harm in that? Really. I'm sure Sheriff Nugent wouldn't mind.”

The deputy wavered again. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“But I mind!” Heyes felt like he was losing ground. “This was not what was agreed too—and you know it!”

Shandal tried to straighten up against the protest.

“I agreed that you could bring your own doctor all the way down here if you insisted,” he stated. “I also warned Sheriff Nugent that it would be a waste of time since I could get a second doctor here much faster. And here he is. It is your doctor who's services will not be required.”

“I'm not answering any of your questions without my lawyer here!” Heyes insisted. “Now who's wasting their time?”

“Apparently your lawyer,” Benson put in. “I can already see, even without asking you any questions that you are an extremely unstable gentleman. Even if I did not know of your past history Mr. Heyes, I can deduct that your illness has a firm hold upon your senses. We don't need a lawyer present to sign the papers.”

Heyes tried to force himself to calm down.

“Deputy,” he said pointedly. “You know you don't have the authority to make this kind of decision...”

“It's not his decision to make...”

“No it isn't!” Heyes cut Shandal off. “It's up to Sheriff Nugent. No prisoner can be released from his custody without his knowledge and consent. Isn't that right, Deputy?”

Charlie scratched his head. “Well, that sounds right.”

“That's because it is right,” Heyes pushed his point.

“Deputy,” Benson showed sympathy. “this man is playing you. You know who he is and what he is capable of. We're not asking you to release him into our custody. We simply wish to ask him a few simple questions. What is the harm in that?”

“Well, nothin'. I guess.”

“What in the world!?”

All four men turned in the direction of Miranda's voice. She stood in the frame of the open door way, a small stack of books in her arms and a basket, presumably filled with light snacks for the afternoon, hanging off her arm. Her expression was one of thunder and dark clouds. She came in, preparing to do battle.

“Oh thank goodness,” Heyes mumbled.

“Oh damn!” Shandal let loose.

“Oh, Mrs. Heyes. Yeah.” Charlie almost wiped the sweat from his brow. “I sure am glad to see you.”

“Dr. Shandal! What are you doing here?” Miranda asked pointedly. “We had an agreement.”

“Ma'am,” Benson turned, giving her the same smile had had given to her husband. “I assure you we meant no disrespect...”

“Like hell you didn't!”

Benson blinked his surprise while Heyes allowed his first smile of the day to play on his lips.

“Ma'am, there's no reason to become distraught,” Benson assured her patronizingly. “I can understand you suffering from the vapours, considering what you've had to deal with, but I assure you, we are here to take that concern from your mind.”

“Get out,” Miranda order dangerously.

“Ma'am, calm yourself.”

“Deputy!” Miranda strode purposefully towards the desk. “Remove these men from this office. Now!”

“Ma'am?” Charlie looked spooked.

“They have no right to be here,” Miranda continued with a vengeance. “They can return when my husband's lawyer arrives, but not before.” Seeing the hesitation in the deputy's eyes, she turned her wrath upon the two doctors and her hackles rose. “Get out!” she ordered with a finger pointed at the door. “I do not give you permission to speak with my husband. Leave!”

Benson began to retreat, with dignity. 

“Ma'am, obviously you are distraught,” he observed discreetly. “Perhaps it would be better if we returned when the sheriff is present. Let's go Angus. We wouldn't want Mrs. Heyes to have an episode.”

“Indeed not Frederick,” Shandal agreed and the two men headed quickly for the front door. “I'm so sorry about this, but you know how women can get, especially when they have been exposed to an affliction of the brain such as this.” 

“You're quite right, Angus. Not your fault,” Benson's voice faded away as the men disappeared. “We'll get this situation dealt with...”

Miranda sighed with relief and turned back to her husband.

“What presumption!” she declared. “They must have known we wouldn't allow that!”

Heyes sat down on his cot, his knees weak with stress.

“I guess they though it was worth a try,” he commented. “Thank goodness you came in when you did. An overwrought female was probably more than they bargained for.”

“They seemed reasonable enough to me,” Charlie said as he went back to his chair. “What?”

Heyes and Miranda had both sent him astonished looks but he was still oblivious to the problem.

“When is Sheriff Nugent due back?” Heyes asked.

Charlie shrugged. “I donno. Depends on the situation. Before dark anyway.”

Heyes practically groaned. That was hours yet.

“Don't worry about it, Hannibal,” Miranda soothed him. “I won't leave until the sheriff gets back. They won't dare return here while I'm standing guard.”

Heyes laughed out loud. “Yes, you're probably right about that!”

Fortunately Sheriff Nugent returned well before sundown and was brought up to date on the happenings of the day.

“Damn that man!” he cursed. “Trust him to try and pull something like that. Well at least you didn't let him get away with it Charlie. That was smart thinking on your part.”

“Yessir Sheriff,” Charlie accepted the praise. “My gut instincts let me know that somethin' weren't right about it. I chased 'em off, that's fer sure.”

“Good man.” Nugent took off his hat and ran a hand through his short cropped hair. “I could use some supper. You alright to stay on duty another hour or so? Then I'll relieve you for the night.”

“Yessir Sheriff, that'll be fine.”

Nugent came over to the cell and leaned against the bars.

“I suppose you'll be wanting a beer with supper again tonight?”

Heyes grinned.

“Well you know, that was a pretty harrowing experience this afternoon,” he played it up. “A beer or two sure would help to calm my nerves.”

“Oh, so now it's two is it?” Nugent noticed. “And how about you ma'am? Two glasses of wine?”

“Actually,” Miranda looked sheepish. “I already brought a bottle of wine with me to have with supper.”

Nugent's brows went up. “Really?” he commented. “You realize that smuggling alcohol in for the prisoners is against regulations.”

“But I didn't smuggle it in for the prisoner,” Miranda rationalized. “I brought it for me.”

“Uh huh,” Nugent shook his head but smiled. “Alright. After all this nonsense you've had to put up with, I suppose it can be overlooked. I'll be back in about an hour.”

“Thank you Sheriff!” Heyes called after him as he left. “I really do appreciate that!”

 

Later that evening, Heyes was feeling a warm buzz, having downed two beers and then helped his wife polish off the bottle of wine. It was getting late and the quiet of the evening permeated the interior of the building to the point where everyone was feeling a little sleepy.

“What do you think?” Miranda quietly asked as they sat with heads close together and hands holding through the bars. “Are you alright now? Will you sleep tonight?”

“I think so.” And to support his point, he yawned. “The beer is helping. And David and Steven should be here soon. That's good news.”

“Are you worried about Benson?”

Heyes nodded. “Yeah. That man is no idiot. We can handle Shandal on his own, but Benson just might be the man to get things done. That does have me worried.”

“The sheriff isn't going to let anything happen before David gets here,” Miranda reminded him. “He assured you of that.”

“Yeah. He also assured me that Shandal wouldn't bring his friend here unless there was no other recourse,” Heyes pointed out. “Yet, here he is.”

“They can't just sign the papers and have you committed,” Miranda insisted. “That can't be legal.”

“But it is!” Heyes protested. “If Shandal can get a second doctor to sign, then they can do it. I could be gone by the time David gets here.”

“I won't let them,” Miranda stated point-blank. “I'm your wife. Would I not have final say in this?”

“Not if they're convinced that you're affected as well.”

“Sheriff Nugent won't let them,” Miranda countered. “He still holds the keys to this cell. You're not going anywhere without his knowledge and consent.”

“He might be just as happy to be rid of me,” Heyes griped. “Grab any excuse.”

Miranda sent him the look.

“I don't get the impression that Sheriff Nugent is that type of lawman,” she reminded him. “I don't think that you do either, you're just looking for something to be negative about.”

“I'm not being negative, I'm being realistic,” Heyes insisted. “I know how things can go wrong. David and Steven could be delayed, and Nugent gets tired of waiting for them. Maybe they won't have the right paperwork with them. Maybe their train will get robbed or derailed—or both! Anything could happen.”

“Or maybe they'll get here on time and everything will work out,” Miranda suggested. “Then all your worrying will have been for nothing.” She smiled and gave his hand a pat. “Try to relax and get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“That's not fair,” Miranda responded. “Do you really think this is easy on me? I've hardly slept a wink. I'm worried too, you know. I'm simply trying not to let it take over.” She squeezed his hand. “We'll get through this, just like we've gotten through everything else. I miss you.”

“How can you miss me?” he asked. “You're here with me all day. I would think you'd be getting bored with all this by now.”

Miranda gave him a wicked smile. “I didn't mean in that sense.”

Heyes grinned, his dimples wanting to play. He sent a quick look to the sheriff to make sure he was occupied, then leaned forward and gave his wife a kiss through the bars. Once he started, he couldn't stop. They quietly stood up, and Heyes' arm came through the bars and encircled her waist. He pulled her up against him until he could feel every curve of her body pressing through the barrier and squeezing up against him.

Their kisses became more passionate, and Heyes felt Miranda's hands slide down his back begin to caresses his buttocks. Her grip tightened and she pulled him in even closer to her and she could feel his erection. He knew he shouldn't, he knew there was no point, but his body began to thrust ever so gently. He missed her. He wanted her. He couldn't help himself.

A discreet cough coming from the front desk dumped cold water on the lovemaking. Both participants sighed regretfully and pulled away from one another.

“I better go,” Miranda whispered.

Heyes nodded and brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

She caressed his face. “Soon,” she assured him.

She stepped back and subconsciously straightened her blouse, then with a final smile to her husband she made her way toward the front door.

“Goodnight, Sheriff.”

Nugent tipped his head. “Ma'am.”

 

It was getting on to 11:00 pm when the sheriff yawned and stretched. His final cup of coffee sat cold and barely touched on his desk. He considered warming it up a touch before getting some shut-eye but decided against it. He was coffeed out. He looked over towards the prisoner and was relieved to see the man apparently asleep. No snores were coming from the cot, but generally when Mr. Heyes was by himself, if he wasn't pacing or reading, then he was asleep.

Nugent sighed. This had been one hell of a week. Damn, it wasn't even a full week since he'd 'detained' Mr. Heyes, but it sure felt like it. Heyes was not a man who took well to confinement, and Nugent wondered how he'd managed to get through five years behind bars without going mad. It sure must have been hard time.

Nugent regretted having to detain him. The sheriff came from a well established family in these parts, and as a whole, they were always involved in the governing of the town to some degree or another. Two separate terms as sheriff had also given him experience and insight into the natures of mankind, and he was not easily fooled by slick talkers.

Hannibal Heyes' reputation had preceded him, but even at that, the sheriff knew the man had been telling the truth about his current circumstances. Unfortunately, the ex-convict had not had the proper paperwork on him, and the last correspondence the sheriff had received from the Wyoming officials was that Hannibal Heyes came with conditions. If he showed up in town without legal escort, or even worse, was attempting to leave the country, then he was to be detained and Wyoming immediately informed of the situation. 

Nugent's hands had been tied. He was legally obliged to arrest him. Now that he had received official word from Wyoming, he would have liked nothing better than to unlock that cell door and let the couple carry on with their honeymoon. What an inconvenient state of affairs this was! Now, with this new situation brought on by Dr. Shandal, the sheriff was again put into a position where he had to stick to the law, rather than do what he felt was the right thing.

Shandal was a decent enough doctor for most things, but he could be a real pain sometimes, and once he got onto his high horse about something, it was almost impossible to unseat him. Nugent might have more respect for Shandal if the doctor had kept himself up to date on medical advances. But that wasn't the case, and Nugent knew it. The man had earned his medical degree 40 odd years ago and seemed to think that there was nothing new to add to that. What he knew 40 years ago was good enough then, so it should be good enough now.

Nugent had never heard of Epilepsy before and had no idea what caused it, but he had very strong doubts about it being a contagion. As far as he knew, Mr. Heyes had never been quarantined, not even in prison. He'd been living in the same town for nearly two years and had a friendship that spanned his entire lifetime. His doctor and lawyer had apparently both dropped everything to get down here to assist him, and that in itself spoke volumes. Not to mention, his wife came across as a very intelligent and levelheaded woman—thank goodness! No signs of madness there.

From what the sheriff could tell, nobody in Mr. Heyes' circle of friends, family or acquaintances had come down with this disease. It would not take much for another, perhaps more educated medical man, to convince the sheriff that Mr. Heyes was healthy and that the seizures were harmless to everyone but the man himself. 

Well, hopefully all this would be sorted out in another couple of days. If Shandal thought that getting his friend over here quickly was going to be to his advantage, he was wrong. The sheriff had assured the prisoner that he was entitled to his own doctor and to legal representation, and Nugent was going to make damn sure he got it. Shandal and Benson were not even going to get near Mr. Heyes again until all parties were present.

Nugent yawned again. He pushed himself to his feet and stretched his full length until he heard his bones crack. Time to get some shut-eye. He picked up his coffee cup and went over to the stove, where he dumped the cup's remnants into the now cold coffee pot. He took the pot out through the back door and dumped those remains into the little garden back there that old lady McDonnell liked to keep. That old biddy could grow anything, and the fresh veggies in the Spring were a nice substitute for the canned variety.

He closed and locked the back door, returned the empty pot to the stove and went to check the front door. All was locked up and secure. He went around the office, turning out all the lamps but one, and then that one he took with him to the empty cell right next to Heyes' abode. He set the lamp down, pulled off his boots and turned down the wick to where it was just barely giving off light. He always kept a light burning low when there were prisoners in the jail, so he was used to sleeping in semi-darkness. He was tired anyway—it would take an awful lot to keep him awake tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Referring to Silverkelpie's story; Compos Mentis. With her knowledge and approval, of course!


	8. Second Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though the fire is out, things are still heating up in Colorado.  
> News finally reaches Brookswood of Heyes' situation, and Jed finds himself feeling left out.  
> Jed and Beth find some time to spend together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic sex  
> Domestic abuse

Brookswood

 

Jed banged on the door to David's house. It was all he could do to not simply barge in; he was so anxious. This house had been almost as much a home to him as the Double J, and now, of all times, he was left to stand on the porch awaiting permission.

“Come in!” Tricia's frazzled voice beckoned him

Jed was through the door in an instant and stopped just as quickly. Nathan was standing by the stove, his soaked clothing lying in a pile on the floor. He wasn't actually crying—because big boys don't cry- but he was looking miserable and was complaining bitterly.

“You're hurting me!”

“Trich..?” Jed tried to break in on the family debate.

“Too bad!” Tricia remarked as she rubbed her son's dripping hair with a rough towel. “I'm very angry with you!”

“But you said I could go out and play!” came forth the logical protest.

“Tricia, is David...”

“It wasn't pouring rain then,” the mother clarified. “You know you shouldn't have stayed out once the weather turned so bad. You're going to catch your death of a cold!”

“Papa says I can't get a cold from getting wet—it's a vius...vion...virus!”

“I'm telling you, you will get sick running around in a downpour like this!”

“Trish, can I...”

“Now go on, down to your room and put on some dry clothes!”

Nathan was gone in a pink flash, his bare feet slapping the hardwood floors as he made his escape.

“Boys!” Tricia exclaimed as she threw the towel down on the heap of wet clothes. “It won't be long Jed, and you'll be finding out what you got yourself into.”

“Ah, aren't Steven and Bridget in Nathan's room?” Jed asked suspiciously.

Tricia's eyes widened in shocked realization. Her hands leapt to her face as she made a dash for the hallway. 

“Nathan! Wait...!”

But it was too late. They heard Nathan's voice coming from the vicinity of his bedroom door.

“Mama told me to come here to get dressed,” he shamelessly announced. “Are you going to put clothes on too, Auntie Bridget?”

Next came the sound of the bedroom door closing a little faster and a little louder than was the norm.

“What's the matter?” Nathan asked as he began to knock on his door. “Can't I come in?”

“Oh no,” Tricia rolled her eyes while Jed snickered, momentarily forgetting the current crisis. “Nathan, come back here for now. Give your Aunt Bridget and Uncle Steven a few minutes.”

“But you told me to get dressed!” came the complaint. “I'm cold now.”

“I'll wrap you in your Papa's coat.” Tricia offered and pointed to the mud room. “Hand me David's jacket, will you, Jed?”

Jed reached for the coat as Nathan came bouncing down the hallway.

“I get to wear Papa's coat!” The excited boy burst into the kitchen like a young colt in a bucking fit. “Yeah! Can I wear it during supper?”

“We'll see,” Tricia conceded, coming to her wits' end of patience.

Nathan ran directly to his Uncle Jed, and Jed did his duty by wrapping the boy up in the desired clothing. Nathan was smiling from ear to ear and began bouncing around the kitchen and banging into chairs.

“Oh Nathan, please,” Tricia was practically pleading with him. “It's a miracle you haven't awakened your sister. Not to mention we have more than one patient in the house. Where is that book you liked so much?”

Nathan stopped on a dime and his eyes widened.

“Oh!” He thought about it for a moment. “It's in the living room.”

“Why don't you go and read your book until supper is ready?”

“Okay!”

And off he dashed to sink himself into more new adventures.

Tricia visibly deflated as the household quieted down.

“Heavens,” she breathed. “Sometimes, that boy...”

“Ah, is David around?” Jed finally was able to ask, though he felt a little guilty in his lack of concern for the weary mother.

Tricia sent him an exasperated look, and for an instant, Jed thought he was going to be next for a scolding. Fortunately for him, Tricia was too tired to carry through with it and merely indicated the hallway.

“He's in his office.”

“Yeah. Ah, thanks.”

Jed made a hasty retreat and knocked on the office door. There was a momentary silence that had Jed wondering if David was actually in there, but then a reluctant voice finally responded.

“What now?”

If Jed's mission hadn't been so vital, he might have decided that retreat would be the best option, but concern for his partner won out and he persisted.

“David, it's me.”

“Oh Jed,” The voice lightened with relief. “Come in.”

Jed entered into the office and quietly closed the door behind him. David was sitting in his chair with a brandy bottle on the desk, and a shot glass in his hand. The doctor looked exhausted, but more than that; he looked defeated.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked his visitor.

“Ah no,” Jed declined. “bit early in the day for me.”

“It's supper time,” David pointed out.

“Yeah, but I just got up an hour ago,” Jed explained. “I feel more inclined towards a coffee than a brandy.”

“Hmm.”

“You alright?”

David sighed. “A wagon full of dead bodies. I didn't even get the chance to help any of them. What a waste. And young Ben might very well be one of those two...”

“Yep,” Jed agreed. “but he might not. Still lots a' fellas not back yet.”

“I suppose.”

Jed hesitated. He remembered when David had lost Mrs. Robertson and her baby, and he wondered if this was going to be another bad night like that bad night back then. But David smiled, and his mood, though still tired, picked up.

“What can I do for you, Jed?”

“Oh, ahh...” Jed pulled out his telegram and opened it up. “Have you had a chance to get a look at those telegrams?”

David groaned. “No, not yet.”

“Well mine's from Randa,” Jed informed him. “asking us to please get in touch.”

David's exhaustion lifted as concern took over his features.

“Why?” he asked.

Jed shrugged.

“I was hoping your telegrams might say something.”

David pushed himself away from his desk and abruptly left the office. Jed stood rooted to the spot, not sure if he should follow or not, and then he heard David's voice coming from the kitchen.

“Where's my coat?”

“I let Nathan wear it,” Tricia's tired voice responded. “His clothes got soaked through and he can't get into his room right now.”

“Oh damn,” David cursed slightly as he came back down the hallway and strode past the open office door. “Nathan, I need to check my coat.”

“But Mama said I could wear it!” Nathan complained. “Mama said!”

The pitter-patter of bare feet on the wood floor could be heard once again as Nathan made his escape back towards the kitchen.

“Nathan, I'm not saying you can't wear it!” David tried to assure him as he followed in his wake. “I simply need something that's in the pocket.”

“But Mama said I could wear it!” Nathan had forgotten all about being a big boy, and tears were flowing with his protests.

Then finally and not surprisingly, Eleanor wailed and began to cry from her bassinet in her parents' room.

“Oh no!” Tricia complained. “I'm never going to get supper going!'

She hurried down the hallway, scooting past her husband and son as they wrestled with the coat, and prepared to do duty with the youngest member of the family. Much to her relief, Bridget stepped out of Nathan's bedroom and gave her friend a smile and a reassuring hug.

“I'll tend to the baby,” she offered the frazzled mother. “You carry on in the kitchen. Steven and I can move back to our hotel room once Eleanor is settled.”

“Oh, thank you. Don't hurry off though, Bridget,” Tricia assured her. “Unless of course, you'd prefer some peace and quiet. But you're welcome to stay for supper.”

“We'll see,” she said. “I'll settle the baby first and then come and help you in the kitchen. Steven is much better now. He can dress himself.”

Tricia turned back to the kitchen, secure in the knowledge that her daughter would be well tended to. She stopped when she found her way obstructed by her husband and her son sprawled on the floor in a mock wrestling match. Nathan's tears had turned to laughter as his father gently held him down and began to poke and tickle him in those sensitive places. Nathan wriggled and screamed and laughed with glee, while David deftly snatched the telegrams out of the coat pocket and then released his son.

Nathan was on his feet and running back to the sanctuary of the living room as David sat up and pushed himself against the wall next to his office door. He was trying to open up the telegrams when the guest room door opened and Belle peered out.

“My goodness, what is going on out here?” she asked quietly. “Sounds worse than our two girls put together.”

“Oh Belle, I'm sorry,” Tricia told her as she headed that way. “Here we are telling you to get some rest, and then the whole household explodes in an uproar.”

“That's quite alright,” Belle assured her. “I remember those days quite clearly. But is there a problem?”

“No,” Tricia told her. “No problem. How is Jesse doing?”

“Still sleeping,” Belle informed her. “How about if I come out and help with supper? You look tired.”

David pushed himself to his feet and straightened out his shirt.

“You need to get your rest too, Belle,” he told her. “We don't want you getting sick.”

“Oh, I'm fine,” Belle insisted as she stepped completely out of the room and into the kitchen. “I'll sleep tonight.”

David wisely decided to leave that discussion to the women and took the opportunity to slip into his office and close the door. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized. “If you turn it into a game it usually goes faster than getting angry.”

“Yeah, I'll have to remember that.”

“Let's get a look at these telegrams,” David suggested. “Maybe we can get an idea as to what's going on.”

He went to his desk where both men spread out their messages and compared notes. David read one of his and relaxed.

“Typical of your partner,” he griped. “He doesn't have any serum with him, and Miranda's asking for a re-fill.”

Jed frowned.

“That doesn't sound too serious,” he mumbled. “but why would she be asking for me to get in touch? Why wouldn't Heyes send it himself if they needed us? Sarah's in town and from what she says, the telegrams she sent to Kenny got here late. Maybe these are the second ones. What does your other one say?”

David was already ahead of him and was trying to focus his tired eyes to read the messy script. His relief from reading the first telegram vanished and his shoulders slumped.

“Dammit!” he cursed. “Can't that partner of yours stay out of trouble for one minute?”

“No,” Jed stated bluntly. “I thought you'd 'a figured that out by now.”

A quick knock on the office door preceded the entrance of the lawyer. Steven was still looking pale and tired, the bruise across his forehead adding to his already dishevelled appearance. He leaned against the door jamb for some extra support, but his eyes were alert and concerned as he held up his own slip of paper.

“I just read this telegram,” he announced. “It seems Han is having some problems at the border.”

Jed and David held up their own telegrams.

“When you're Heyes, you do everything times two,” Jed announced. “I think there's more going on than just trouble at the border.”

“He took his paperwork with him, didn't he?” Steven asked with a concerned frown.

“What paperwork?” Jed asked.

“His pardon!” Steven snapped, then swayed slightly with the exertion. Both Jed and David were about to make a grab for him, but drew back as Steven caught himself. “His pardon,” he repeated more sedately. “His pardon is still recent. News of it might not have reached the border towns yet. If Hannibal has tried to leave the country without his pardon, then he could be in serious trouble.”

David sighed, and Jed groaned.

“Dammit,” they both muttered.

“Do you know where he would have kept it?” Steven asked Jed.

“Yeah, it'd be in his safe if it's not with him.”

“Can you get into his safe?” Steven continued.

“Yeah,” Jed admitted. “Heyes gave me the combination just in case anything happened to 'im. I can go check if it's there or not.”

“Good,” Steven nodded. “I have my own copy back in Denver and can take it with me when I go, but it would be best for him to have his on him.”

“When you go?” David interjected. “You're not up to a trip down to Yuma. You can give me the paperwork and I'll take it along when I go.”

“You?” Steven argued. “You're so exhausted, you can barely keep your eyes open. There's no reason for you to go anyway. It's more important that I go, and I can take the serum with me.”

“You need to rest.”

“So do you,” Steven countered. “Besides, it's not like I'd be walking to Yuma. I'll rest on the train.”

“I can do that just as easily as you...”

“Fellas, fellas!” Jed had been listening to this debate until it was obvious that it was going in circles.  
“I wouldn't be surprised if Heyes needs both of ya' down there. We can all go together.”

Two incredulous looks were sent Jed's way.

“What do you mean, all of us?” asked Steven.

“You can't go,” David added.

“What do ya' mean, I can't go?” Jed demanded. “I'm his partner. If he's in trouble then I'm the one who needs to go.”

“You have other obligations Jed,” Steven pointed out. 

“Like what?”

“Like the Double J,” Steven clarified. “Your family needs you here, with Jesse laid up the way he is. You're the head of that household now, and you have to get out there with Sam in order to get the ranch up and running again.”

“That's true, Jed,” David agreed. “The Jordans need you here. Especially with Ben missing now...”

“Who's Ben?” Steven asked.

“Jesse's new hired hand,” Jed explained.

“Who is now missing,” David continued. “Even his folks came into town in the hopes of finding him here. Hopefully they haven't.”

Steven frowned in confusion over that comment, but Jed understood it. He nodded with some regret as he came to fully realize the situation.

“Yeah, I guess they are going to need me here,” he conceded.

“Not to mention Harry's wedding,” David added.

“Ohh,” Jed grimaced. “You had to remind me a' that, didn't ya'?”

Both Steven and David grinned, and the doctor gave Jed a pat on the shoulder.

“I think after what this town has been through, a wedding is the best thing that could happen,” he said. “Bring everybody's spirits back up again.”

Jed sent him a look and was about to retort, when more knocking on the front door caught their attention. 

A few seconds passed, and then Tricia's voice could be heard from the front alcove.

“Oh, good evening Sheriff, ah...Sheriffs. Oh! And...oh yes, they're all down in David's office. Go on down.”

“Thank you, Tricia,” came Sheriff Jacobs' voice, instantly followed by Lom's baritone as he greeted her and walked by.

Steven looked down the hallway and nodded a greeting as the two law men joined the gathering. He then raised his brows in surprise as Harry stepped out from behind the sheriffs.

“I need to know what you fellas are plannin',” the detective puffed. “Has everyone forgotten why we're all here in the first place? We got us a weddin' ta' get through! You better not be plannin' on leavin' me high and dry here Kid. I need ya' to well...organize things.”

“I ain't goin' anywhere, Harry,” Jed assured him with some regret. “You and Isabelle are gonna get married here, right quick.”

“Well it's about time!” Harry complained. “Why, my little peach has had to wait long enough. She's startin' ta' get push...I mean, anxious. Afraid I'm going to back out on her or some such nonsense. Can you imagine me doin' something like that?”

“Well now that ya' mention it, Harry...”

“Kid! I would never! A Bannerman man's word is as good as...”

Finally, Jacobs had had enough of this rant and giving Harry a slight push to the side, took over the conversation.

“You fellas get telegrams from Yuma as well?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Yes.”

“Sure did.”

“I didn't.” 

All eyes turned to Harry for an instant, and he shrugged.

“Well I didn't!”

“What do yours say?” Jed asked the two lawmen.

“Basically wondering why no one was getting back to them,” Jacobs filled them in. “I guess all the telegrams ended up coming at once.”

“Mine was similar,” Lom conceded. “Seems Heyes has got himself into trouble again. Any idea what it's all about?”

“Not really,” Steven admitted. “Just trouble getting across the border.”

“And needing more serum.” David added. “I could just send the mixture, but I think it best I take it in person. The telegrams don't say much, but there seems to be a note of desperation to them.”

Jed snorted. Lom rolled his eyes.

Another knocking on the front door interrupted the conference again.

“Oh for goodness' sakes!” came Tricia's frustrated tone. “I'm never going to get supper on the table at this rate...come in!”

“Sorry ma'am,” a mumbled voice responded. “but I have an important telegram here for Sheriff Jacobs. Joe said he was over here.”

“Down here, Clayt!” Jacobs summoned the telegrapher. “What is it?”

Clayt quickly shuffled forward and handed yet another slip of paper to the sheriff.

“Another one from Yuma.”

Jacobs took the paper and unfolded it. All eyes were upon him as they waited for the news.

“Well, pretty straight forward this time,” Jacobs announced. “It's from the sheriff down there. He's beginning to sound a little desperate too. Ah, 'Bring proof of pardon. Bring Meds. Bring proof of...sanity?'”

“Sanity!?” Jed asked.

“What does that mean?” Steven seconded.

Jacobs shrugged. “That's what it says. “'Bring proof of sanity.'”.

“Ha! I knew it!” Harry announced. “I always said Heyes was a little crazy!”

“Oh no,” David groaned, totally ignoring Harry's outburst.

He was met with a universal “What?”

“If he had another seizure and the doctor down there doesn't understand the cause, they might just be thinking that Hannibal is insane,” David explained. 

“Oh no,” Jed grumbled. 

“That settles it,” Steven announced. “I'm heading down there. I'll rest on the train.”

“Myself as well,” David agreed. “Take it easy tonight, Steven, and we'll catch the morning train. Hopefully we can get there in a couple of days. Clayt, would you mind letting the sheriff there know that we're on our way?”

“Who should I say it's from?”

Silence settled for a moment and then Jed answered. “How about it's from the whole town of Brookswood.”

Xxx

 

Sarah held the bowl of hot soup and carefully sent another spoonful towards her husband's mouth. He accepted it and swallowed, then smiled.

“I can feed myself, you know,” he told her. “I'm not a total invalid.”

“But I like doing it,” Sarah assured him. “It makes me feel needed.”

Kenny chuckled. “I don't think you need to worry about that.”

Sarah smiled, but then turned serious again.

“I was worried about you though,” she admitted. “When I didn't hear back from you, I started thinking all the worst things. I guess I've been the prison guard's wife for too long. Any delays and I'm certain you must be in trouble.”

“I'm sorry,” Kenny told her. “I never received any telegrams from you. Then this happened. How did you get here so soon? News of it wouldn't have travelled that quickly.”

Sarah smiled and nodded.

“I know,” she agreed. “I didn't hear about it until I was already on my way. I had some news for you and sent you a telegram shortly after you left to come here. When I didn't hear back from you, I got worried. I sent another one and still no response. Then I got really worried because it just isn't like you to not answer.”

“Yes. True enough.”

Sarah put the bowl of soup down on the night table and took her husband's good hand.

“I couldn't just sit still and wait for word,” she continued. “Goodness knows I've done that too many times in the past, and I decided I simply wasn't going to put myself through it again. I left Evelyn with Mrs. McGrew and caught the next train here. I was already on my way when news came to us of the fire. As soon as I heard about it, I knew you were in trouble. I just knew it.”

Kenny sat up straighter and pulled his wife into a hug. They held each other, sharing the comfortable warmth as they both reassured the other that all was now well.

“What was the news?” Kenny finally asked her.

“Pardon?”

“You said you had news,” he clarified. “That's why you sent the original telegram.”

“Oh yes!” Sarah sat up straight again. “How could I have forgotten! Joseph sent a letter home shortly after he arrived back at school. It seems there is a particular young lady back East who has caught his interest.”

“Really?” Kenny sounded incredulous. “He's been visiting with us all summer and he doesn't mention anything about this until he gets back to school?”

“It seems he wasn't sure of the lady's feelings towards him and he didn't want to say anything until he was sure,” Sarah explained. “Apparently, now he is sure.”

“No wonder he was in such a hurry to get back,” Kenny mulled. “Are we going to be meeting this young lady sometime in the near future?”

“I expect so,” Sarah confirmed. “Apparently he is going to meet her parents next week and, if they approve of him—and of course, they will—then the next step will be for us to meet her.”

“That makes sense,” Kenny agreed. “This is sounding serious. Are they actually betrothed?”

“Not officially,” Sarah explained. “He must get her father's permission first, of course.”

“Oh, well yes, of course.”

“Then if they are to come here, the young lady cannot travel without a chaperone.”

“No, no, of course not. We could always go there.”

Sarah smiled. “Would you be able to take more time away from your job?” she asked. “If we were to go before the weather turns bad, we would have to leave soon.”

Kenny grinned. “I'm convalescing,” he stated. “And I have a doctor in my back pocket who will agree that I need at least six weeks off for a full recovery.”

Sarah's smile broadened, and she leaned in for another kiss. Kenny pulled her in close once again.

“And since you're already here,” he informed her. “you can accompany me to Harry's wedding before we head off to attend to our son!”

Sarah groaned.

Xxx

Jed, Beth and T.J. made their way through the early morning chill towards David's place. The rain clouds had all disappeared, and the rising sun was promising to bring the late summer heat back to the countryside. Thank goodness they'd had that break in the weather. Jed couldn't imagine still being out there fighting that fire, and the financial loss to the community would have been even more devastating than it already was.

The Gibson household was its usual morning chaos as Tricia struggled to get both her children fed and assist her husband in preparing for his upcoming journey.

“Good morning,” Beth greeted everyone in the kitchen.

“Hello,” Tricia responded with a smile. “Come on in. Coffee's on.”

Beth and Jed joined the group, and Beth went straight to her mother and gave her a hug.

“How are you holding up?” she asked. “You look better than you did yesterday.” 

Belle smiled and gave her daughter's hand a gentle squeeze.

“I am feeling better, Sweetheart,” Belle assured. “Your Papa is improving and I had a good night's sleep in the other room.”

“Good.”

“And how is my grandson doing this morning?” Belle asked as she offered to take the baby. 

T.J. gurgled happily and reached out to come into his grandma's embrace. 

“He seems quite unperturbed by all the hubbub of this past week,” Beth informed her mother. “In fact I think he's rather enjoying the attention.”

“Children do have a way of rising to the occasions,” Belle agreed as she sat the infant on her lap. “Something we can all take a lesson from, I think.”

Tricia sighed as she sat down with her own coffee of the morning. “You certainly have that right, Belle,” she agreed. “Nathan has been driving me crazy. He seems to thrive on all the uncertainty. And of course he gets Eleanor going, and there is simply no peace.”

Belle smiled knowingly. “They'll grow up fast enough,” she cautioned. “Then you'll be missing all the chaos.”

Tricia laughed out loud and then conceded the point. “You're right,” she agreed. “It hardly seems any time at all that Nathan was no older than Eleanor. They do grow up quickly.”

“Is David around?” Jed interrupted the ladies' talk.

“He's putting some last minute items together,” Tricia told him. “You can go on down to his office if you like.”

“Yeah.”

Jed walked down the familiar hallway and peaked in through the open door. David was indeed putting some last minute items into his satchel and didn't even look up when Jed entered the room.

“Almost ready to go?” Jed asked.

David took note of the disappointed tone of the enquiry. “Yes,” he answered. “You still want to come along, don't you?”

Jed shrugged, then dug into his shirt pocket and presented David with a folded piece of paper.

“Here's Heyes' copy of the pardon,” he announced. 

“Ah! Obviously he didn't think to take it with him.”

“I suppose not.”

“Come on, Jed,” David slightly reprimanded him. “It's not the end of the world. You know you have other responsibilities here. Steven and I will make sure the matter gets cleared up. There's no need for you to worry.”

“I suppose.”

David smiled when he recognized the familiar loyalty putting in another appearance, and gave his friend a slap on the shoulder as they left the room.

“Hannibal will understand,” the doctor assured him. “I'll make sure he knows that you wanted to come.”

“I'll probably never hear the end of it,” Jed predicted. “He can be stubborn that way sometimes, you know.”

“Hmm,” David was non-committal on that statement. “Seems to be a trait you both share.” 

“Ah, is Jesse up for a visitor?” Jed changed the subject as they approached the kitchen.

“Yes, I think so,” David agreed. “But not for long. I'll be timing you.”

“Uh huh.”

David carried on into the kitchen for a quick bite of breakfast while Jed quietly knocked on the bedroom door and then entered. Jesse was propped up on pillows and had been napping, but opened his eyes and gave his son-in-law a weak smile as the younger man came into the room. Jed closed the door and sat down on the chair by the bed.

“Hey Jesse. You up for a short visit?”

“Sure,” Jesse agreed though his voice sounded weak and a little forced. “How is the battle going?”

“I think we've been given a reprieve,” Jed informed him. “Just got word though that Heyes is in some kind 'a trouble down in Yuma. David and Steven on catchin' the mornin' train to go help 'im out.”

“And you want to go along,” Jesse stated bluntly.

Jed hesitated, surprised that his true motivation was so apparent. “Well yeah,” he admitted. “but I realize that you probably need me here...”

“Yes I do,” Jesse confirmed. “Deke is getting too old to handle it all. Sam is a good foreman but he's still young. I need you out there to oversee the cleanup. I'm counting on you, Jed. Not just as a member of this family but as someone who has a shared interest in the success of the Double J. I'm sure Hannibal will understand that.”

“Yep, I suppose so,” Jed accepted his fate. “That's kind'a what David said too. There's more ta' bein' a member 'a this family than simply marryin' the boss' daughter.”

Jesse laughed then flinched at the pain it caused him.

Jed frowned in concern. “Maybe I should leave ya' be,” he said with some contrition. “David also said not ta' tire ya' out.”

“I'm alright,” Jesse countered. “You don't need to rush off just yet. I understand I owe you and Kenny a lot more than just 'thanks'.”

“Yeah, well.” Jed looked uncomfortable with the compliment. “Couldn't just leave ya' out there. Harry helped out as well.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah,” Jed confirmed. “He's turnin' inta' a real model citizen. I think gettin' married has had an effect on 'im.”

“Oh yes,” Jesse frowned. “I'd forgotten about the wedding. Has it happened yet?”

“Nope,” Jed admitted. “and Isabelle is none too pleased about it too. I think she's scared that Harry is gonna skedaddle on her.”

Jesse shifted, trying to get comfortable. “It wouldn't be the first time,” he commented. “Isabelle was all set to get married just before you and Hannibal showed up here for your visit. Young man got cold feet and disappeared. There was always some kidding around that her father got wind of the boy backing out and did away with him. But I doubt it. Emmett Baird Sr. has always been one for more talk and little action. I have never met a more useless man in my life.”

“His sons ain't much better,” Jed grumbled and went back to the previous point. “So, Isabelle was engaged before? She couldn't a' been no more'n pigtails and giggles back that far.”

“Yes,” Jesse nodded. “Fifteen, I think. Emmett wanted her gone. I don't think he's quite forgiven her for the fact that boy run off.”

Jed snorted. “Some people got no sense.”

“True.”

Jesse began to fade and Jed decided it was probably time to leave him to rest.

“Don't worry Jesse,” he assured his friend. “I'll make sure everything gets taken care of, out at the ranch. You just get yourself healed up.”

Jesse nodded, then reached out with his good hand and stopped Jed from standing up. “Belle told me about Ellie.”

“Oh yeah,” Jed sighed with regret. “She did her job to the end, Jesse. We'd a never 'a found ya' if she hadn't kept barkin'. She called us right to ya'.”

“Make sure you bury her up on the knoll beside Rufus,” Jesse told him. “You know that place up behind the house where you do your target shooting.”

Jed nodded. “I will Jesse. And I guess I better to it today too, before it gets too hot. We got her in Heyes' ice box now, but well, that's only good for so long. I'll take care of it Jesse, don't worry. She'll have a good place.”

Jesse started to fade again and his eyelids began to droop. “And tell Sam...” he struggled to get the words out. “Tell Sam...I'm sorry about his horse. I'll make sure...he gets...another...”

“Yeah, I will Jesse.”

Jed sat for a moment and waited, watching his father-in-law for further signs of communication. Nothing more was forthcoming, and Jesse appeared to have fallen back asleep. Jed quietly stood up and left the room.

Xxx

David paced back and forth along the platform of the train station. The locomotive had already whistled the all aboard signal, and Steven was nowhere in sight. Jed stood quietly, leaning against the railing and watched his friend becoming more and more anxious.

“Come on,” David mumbled under his breath then added a little louder. “What can be taking him so long?”

Jed shrugged. “Probably taking him a little longer than he thought to get ready.”

“Which is exactly why I told him he shouldn't come.”

“Personally, I'm glad he's going,” Jed admitted. “I'm thinkin' Heyes is gonna need all the help he can get. And since I'm not goin'...”

David stopped pacing and frowned at him. “Are you still upset over that?” he asked. “The Jordans need you here. You know that. We'll take care of Hannibal alright.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jed agreed. “Why do ya' think I'm lettin' ya' go on without me?”

David smiled then brightened up even more when he spied Bridget waving at them. “Oh finally. Here they come.”

Jed followed his gaze and saw the couple moving towards them. Bridget had her arm through her husband's, and though she tried to pretend that she was simply walking with him, it was obvious to their friends that she was actually helping Steven to stay on track. He was definitely moving slower than usual.

“Oh dear,” David mumbled. “I was afraid of this. This trip is going to be too much for him right now. He shouldn't come.”

“He'll be alright,” Jed assured the doctor, though most of his confidence came from a selfish desire for his partner to get all the help he could. Heyes was going to need Steven there, so Jed wasn't about to side with David and encourage Steven to stay home.

“I'm coming!” Steven assured them. “I'm a little slower than usual, but I can rest on the train. You ready to go?”

David nodded. “Yes. We'd best get on board quickly. I was getting concerned you weren't going to make it.”

“I would have made sure he made it,” Bridget insisted then turned to her husband. “But you take care, Steven. It's still very hot down there this time of year, so take it slow.”

“I will,” Steven assured his wife. “You relax yourself. It's been a very busy week for all of us.”

“Ah, you best get on board,” Jed commented as steam whooshed out from under the distant engine. “She's gettin' ready to pull out.”

“Yes, yes of course,” Steven agreed. He leaned over and gave his wife a kiss on the cheek. “Take care. We'll be back as quickly as we can.”

“I know,” Bridget smiled. “We'll see you all soon. Hopefully it's not too serious.”

The two travellers waved their goodbyes and with a little help from Jed, Steven followed David into the nearest passenger car just as the engine whistled again, and the string of cars jerked into motion. Jed and Bridget stayed on the platform until the train was well under way and the two men had disappeared inside the car.

Bridget let loose a sigh of relief. “Finally,” she said. “Steven just couldn't get organized this morning. I really was getting worried we were going to miss it.”

“Yeah well, they're on their way now And David will look after him if somthin' does come up. He'll be fine.” Jed assured her and offered his arm to the lady. “What are your plans now.”

“I'll be staying in town,” Bridget informed him as they casually left the train station. “Mama needs my support right now and besides, we came here for Harry's wedding. We can hardly leave before it happens. That would be rude!”

They both chuckled. “Things didn't go quite the way they planned, did they?”

“No, they certainly didn't,” Bridget agreed. “Still, it will come together now, I'm sure.”

“Yeah, I donno,” Jed cautioned. “Harry seemed a little jittery last night. I think he might be gettin' cold feet.”

“Oh, don't say that!” Bridget scolded him. “Isabelle would be heartbroken, and then we'd all have to listen to her crying about how hard done by she is. As if there haven't been other pressing matters to attend to this week. I'm sure Harry is just anxious to get things done.”

“I hope so,” Jed agreed. “I don't need a jilted Isabelle cryin' the blues on my shoulder either.”

“I'm sure we have all had enough of her and her antics,” Bridget ventured. “I hope Harry knows what he's getting into. But if he doesn't, don't you dare warn him!”

“Bridget!” Jed played indignant. “You'd send poor Harry off to the slaughter just to get Isabelle out of your hair?”

“In a heartbeat!”

“Ho, ho ho!” Jed laughed. “Yep, you and Heyes are a lot alike.”

Xxx

Isabelle sat with her coffee cup vibrating halfway between the table and her trembling lips. Tears were threatening to overflow from her eyes as her complexion rose from pasty pale to puce thundercloud.

Harry anxiously glanced around the cafe at the other patrons enjoying their breakfast, and tried to sneak a hand across the tablecloth to give his bride a reassuring squeeze. Isabelle was having none of it-and snatched her hand away from his, knocking her silverware to the floor in the process.

A few heads turned their way, and Harry felt the urge to slide down under the table.

“I don't mean indefinitely, my little peach,” he whispered desperately. “Just until things calm down a little bit.”

“How could you want to postpone our wedding!?” Isabelle wailed, causing more heads to turn their way. “Wasn't it bad enough that the stupid fire started right on our day, and now you want to wait even longer!?”

“Just until the town gets back on its feet,” Harry assured her. “Half the folks who were to attend are laid up with some injury or another. Why, it would be downright selfish of us to go ahead with such a joyous event for us, when so many others are still suffering.”

“Why!?” Isabelle demanded to know. “I don't care if nobody comes, I just want us to get married!”

“And we will, Cupcake,” Harry continued. “Just as soon as we get word that all is well. Why, I simply wouldn't feel right getting married while my dear friend Hannibal Heyes was in jeopardy. I just couldn't do it.”

“I'm beginning to think you don't want to marry me at all!” Isabelle accused him.

“Now you're being silly,” Harry chided her and instantly realized he'd made a mistake, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out what it was.

Isabelle puffed up and the colour in her cheeks deepened beyond description.

“Being silly!?” she repeated. “It's my wedding!”

And with that, she threw down her tear-sodden napkin, pushed herself to her feet and stomped her retreat out the front door.

Harry sat, looking dejected as the waitress came over to collect the fallen silverware. She stood up and sent Harry a sympathetic look.

“Would you like some more coffee?” she asked him.

Harry simply stared at her through distant dark eyes. He had never felt so miserable. Then, to make matters worse, he spotted Kid walking by, arm in arm with Bridget Granger. They were almost past the cafe, and Harry thought he might stay incognito, when Kid's blue eyes, that rarely missed anything, didn't miss him.

The Kid's brow creased with concern, and then, both he and Bridget were distracted by another disturbance. Isabelle hurried past, not seeing them at all as she sobbed into her handkerchief. She carried on down the street in the direction of Heyes' place and was quickly around the corner and out of sight.

Bridget and Jed exchanged looks and both sent Harry an accusing stare that penetrated the cafe's front window. Bridget said something to her companion and hurried after the distressed bride while Jed turned and headed for the cafe's entrance.

“Sweetie?” the waitress asked again. “More coffee?”

This time Harry looked at her and saw her. “Sure, why not?” he grumbled. “Might as well bring a cup for my friend as well. We might be sitting here for awhile.”

Xxx

 

“Isabelle!” Bridget called after the fleeing woman. “Isabelle, wait!”

Isabelle stopped by the mercantile, not because she heard Bridget calling to her, but because the sobs had taken over so completely that she couldn't get enough breath in her lungs to continue running. She leaned against the hitching rail and gasped and retched against the onslaught of her dismay.

Bridget caught up, feeling breathless herself and stopped beside the distressed woman.

“Isabelle, what's wrong?” Bridget asked between gasps.

Isabelle continued to sob, trying desperately to draw air into her lungs, but her emotions had a hold on her and she thought for sure she was going to pass out. People on the boardwalk looked her way and discreetly gave her a wide berth to avoid any unpleasantness.

Bridget put an arm around her shoulders and tried to offer comfort.

“Calm down,” she said quietly. “Try to relax. Take deep breaths. It can't be that bad.”

Isabelle took her advice and drew in deep shuddering breaths, but she was still far from calm.

“What's wrong?” Bridget asked her again.

“Harry wants...to...postpone our...wedding...”

“Oh.” Bridget slumped. “Well, I mean it's already been postponed, hasn't it? The town is in such an upheaval. Perhaps he just wants to wait until things calm down. There's nothing wrong with that. It doesn't mean that he...”

“No! You don't understand!” Isabelle wailed. “My father...!”

“Your father?” Bridget questioned. “I'm sure he'll understand...”

Isabelle gasped and drew back, putting Bridget between herself and the store entrance just as the man in question bullied his way through it. His face was dark as thunder, and dropping the packages he had purchased in the mercantile, he made a grab for his daughter. Isabelle screamed and tried to avoid him, but he caught her arm and pulled her away from her tenuous cover.

“No, Papa!”

“What did you do?” he demanded. “What do you mean, Briscoe wants to postpone the weddin'!?”

“It's not my fault!” Isabelle wailed. “I didn't do anything!”

“Mr. Baird! Please!” Bridget tried to get between the man and his daughter. “Isabelle didn't do anything. I'm sure it's nothing.”

Baird snarled. He briefly turned his attention to Bridget and backhanded her across the boardwalk. Bridget staggered, and hitting the wall of the mercantile, she slid to the ground. A couple of ladies quickly came to Bridget's assistance while their men moved in on Baird and tried to reason with him.

“C'mon Emmett,” one of them ventured. “no reason to get upset. Relax!”

“Don't you go tellin' me to relax!” Baird yelled back at them. “I got a right to discipline my own family.”

“Nobody's denyin' that, Emmett,” said another. “but you got no call to be hittin' Jesse's daughter. She's done nothin' to ya'.”

“She and her whole goddamn family can stay outta my business!” Emmett yelled. “The whole lot of ya'! Just stay away from me. I got a right!”

“No Papa, please!” Isabelle was sobbing and trying to break away from her father's hold on her. “I didn't do anything!”

“Shuddup ya' little trollop!” he ordered, and brought his free hand down and slapped her across the face. She would have fallen to the planks if he hadn't still be holding onto her. “You was pushin' on 'em, weren't ya'! Just like ya' always do! Pushin' so hard, ya' finally push 'em away!” He pulled her up close to his face and glared down at her. “No man wants a pushy wife. I oughta sell ya' to Flo's. Apparently that's all yer good fer!”

Isabelle was sinking to her knees, sobbing up at her father, pleading with him for understanding, but his hand rose up, all prepared to strike her again. Bridget was on her feet by this time, and without thinking about it, she rushed at Baird and grabbed his uplifted arm.

“No! Stop it!” she yelled at him. “Stop hitting her! It's not her fault!”

Baird let Isabelle go and turned his attention to Bridget. Growling at her, he grabbed her dress and shook her violently.

“Don't you go tellin' me how to deal with my worthless daughter!” he yelled. “Yer just as bad as yer father; stickin' yer nose into other people's business!”

He gave her another shake and shoved her back against the wall again. More men came out of the mercantile and tackled Baird. The Jordan family were well respected in this county and nobody was going to put up with one of it's members being assaulted, especially one of the female persuasion.

Baird disappeared under the avalanche of townsmen sweeping down upon him. Bridget scampered around the battlefield and went to Isabelle. She held her in her arms and pulled her away from the violent altercation. Isabelle sobbed and allowed herself to be dragged to a safe distance, and there, she hugged her friend and watched in terror as her father was being beaten.

Everyone jumped when a shot was fired into the air, then a second shot followed it just to insure that the combatants broke up. All heads turned in the direction of the shot and of the approaching lawman who had fired it. Most of the men, being respectful of the law in their town, no matter how young the representative was, backed off and even looked contrite.

“What in tarnation is goin' on!?” Joe demanded, his gun still out and ready. “Haven't we had enough trouble this past week without there being fighting in the streets!?”

The men backed off, and Baird scrambled to his feet like a cat suddenly released from the wash tub.

“These men assaulted me fer no good reason!” he insisted. “I demand that you arrest every single one of 'em!”

Joe looked around at the scene. His eyes settled on Bridget and Isabelle, and he noted the red patches on their cheeks that were usually the foreshadowing of bruising. Isabelle had blood trickling from her nose and a corner of her mouth. He turned his hard gaze back to the fuming father.

Seeing the accusation in the eyes of the young deputy, Baird became defiant.

“I got a right ta' discipline my own kin!” he protested. “You can't tell me how ta' run my family!”

“You're right, Mr. Baird,” Joe conceded. “You have the right to discipline your daughter any way you deem fit...but you don't have the right to do it out in public. That aside, you might very well have set yourself up for a whole mess of trouble. Disciplining a family member is one thing, but assaulting a lady who is not only the daughter of an upstanding citizen, but also the wife of a lawyer, might be the worst mistake you ever made.”

Baird went silent for an instant as the reality of that fact hit home. But common sense didn't prevail for long and Joe saw the beginnings of a bluster starting up again. He was quick to nip it in the bud.

“I suggest you pick up your purchases and go on home before you start a riot,” he advised the rancher.

Baird felt the fear of retribution attack his nerve, but like many men who are cowards underneath, he felt the need to cover up that fear with more blustering and posturing for effect. “That's fine by me!” he growled “That's all I've been wantin' to do anyways before everybody stuck their noses into my business!” And gathering up his parcels he made a move towards his daughter.

Isabelle screamed and scrambled back, putting Bridget between herself and her parent. Bridget stood up with defiance and glared at the approaching man.

“You leave her alone!” she insisted. “Joe! You can't let him take her. You know what he'll do!”

“Her place is at home!” Baird insisted and he turned to the deputy. “You can't stop me from takin' my own daughter home.”

“I don't want to go!” Isabelle yelled. “I won't go back there!”

“You got nowhere's ta' go, ya' little trollop!” Baird insisted and made a move to grab her again.

Bridget got between them and was instantly accompanied by Joe.

“You heard her,” Joe said to the angered father. “She doesn't want to go with you.”

“She's my daughter!”

“But she's an adult,” Joe pointed out. “She can decide...”

“You little pup!” Baird growled. “Get out'a my way!”

Xxx

“Harry,” Jed greeted his friend and sat down at the table. “What's goin' on? Why is Isabelle so upset?”

Harry looked dejected. He was fairly capable of manipulating a woman's emotions when it suited his own larcenous means, but when it came to the tears of someone he truly cared about, he was at a loss as to how to deal with it.

“I donno, Kid,” he mumbled. “All I did was suggest that we postpone the weddin' until things calmed down in town here, and she got all teary and extreme like.”

“Aww Harry. Don't ya' have no sense at all?”

“What did I do?”

“Here's your coffee, Jed,” Jed smiled up at the waitress, and she beamed back at him. “Black with a little bit of sugar, just the way you like it.”

“Thank you,” Jed responded. “You make real good coffee here.”

“Why, thank you,” she responded. “Drink as much as you like.”

“Ma'am,” Jed tipped his hat, and the waitress moved along. Harry growled. “What?” Jed asked.

“What is it with you two?” he snarked. “You charm the ladies right outta their petticoats, and I make a reasonable suggestion to my intended, and she goes all hysterical on me.”

“Well,” Jed sighed and considered the situation. “Maybe she's pickin' up on somethin' you ain't sayin'. You sure you still wanna get married?”

“No,” Harry admitted point blank.

“What?” Jed was taken by surprise. This was not the answer he had expected.

Harry slumped and gazed into his coffee cup. “I donno Kid. I see you and Heyes gettin' hitched and startin' families, and I think maybe that's what I want too. But now I'm beginnin' to think that I just ain't the kind a' man who should settle down. I'm a will-o-the-wisp, you know. Always on the go; a free spirit. I can't let myself be shackled down by one woman. Why, it wouldn't be right.”

Jed sat back and scrutinized his friend. He wasn't buying it.

“Uh huh,” he commented and took a sip of coffee. “Ya' know Harry, I got cold feet when it come to marryin' Beth.”

Harry brightened up, seeing some light at the end of the tunnel. “Ya' did?”

“Yeah,” Jed nodded. “I was thinkin' she was too young. Or that my ma wouldn't approve of her. Stupid really, cause a'course my ma would have approved of Beth. What's there not to approve of? But ya' know, I was lookin' for any excuse to back out of the marriage. Then I got to thinkin' that I didn't deserve anything that good in my life. Especially after we lost our first young'un. I thought God was maybe punishin' me or somethin', ya' know, for thinkin' I had the right ta go after that kind a' happiness. Maybe yer just scared Harry. Gettin' married is a big change, it takes some adjustin' to.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “You might have a point. I mean, if you and Heyes can do it there ain't no reason why I can't.”

“Yeah,” Jed seconded that. “It ain't always been easy, but it can be worth it. Asides from that; you're gonna break Isabelle's heart if'n ya' back out now. Is that what you wanna do?”

“Oh no, Kid,” Harry perked up and even became a little defensive. “I would never do that to my little peach...”

“Well that's kinda' what it looked like you were doin',” Jed pointed out. “Why else would she run off, cryin' like that?”

“I don't know!”

Little squeaks of alarm took over the cafe as two loud shots from a revolver interrupted the morning brunch.

“What the hell...?” Jed asked as he looked outside to the street.

“Isn't that the direction my little pumpkin ran off in?” Harry asked, suddenly filled with alarm.

Before Jed could answer him, Harry was on his feet and running to the front door while Jed took one more quick gulp of his coffee before following him. Other patrons were also on their feet and milling around the front windows in the hopes of getting a view. Nobody else actually wanted to run out there, and certainly not in the direction from whence the shots had come.

“Hey!” the waitress called out. “He didn't pay for the breakfast!”

“He'll be back!” Jed assured her as he followed Harry out the door. “I'll make sure of it.”

Xxx

The only reason that Jed caught up to Harry, was the fact that Harry had stopped in his tracks and was trying to process the scene before his eyes. Jed stopped and found himself in a similar situation, but he recovered faster and continued on his way to give assistance.

“Hey Joe!” he called out so as not to get shot by accident. “ya' havin' a little problem here?”

Joe kept his eyes focused on Baird, but nodded his acknowledgement of Jed's query.

“Nothing I can't handle,” he responded. “Isn't that right, Mr. Baird?” 

“You think you can boss me around, Morin?” Baird snarled at him. “I remember the day your mama popped you out. Who do you think you are, playin' high and mighty with me?”

“I'm a member of the law enforcement in this town, Mr. Baird. You know that,” Joe reminded him. “No one's playin' high and mighty with you. I'm just strongly suggesting that you pack up your purchases and head on home. Your daughter can go with you or not, as she likes.”

Kid knew even before Baird did, that the rancher was going to go for his gun. The lip had curled up into a sneer and the muscles in his shoulder and biceps tightened in preparation of springing into action. Baird jerked in startled fear when he saw the gun of Kid Curry pointed straight at him, knowing before he did himself, what his intentions had been.

Baird took a step back, and his hand never even went near his gun.

“No need for that,” he said, suddenly being all reasonable. “What do I care what that trollop does? I don't even think she's my own daughter. Her mother was a trollop too, just like her.”

“Papa...” Isabelle pleaded. “Don't say things like that about my ma. She was a good woman.”

“What do you know?” Baird snapped at her. “She died givin' birth to you! You didn't know nothin' about her. But I can see now, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. You're useless, just like she was. No man wants ya', and now I'm expected ta' pay for yer keep yer whole goddam life. Every man who shows the least bit a' interest, you go scarin' 'im off! What the hell am I suppose to do with you?”

Baird made another move towards his daughter, but suddenly found himself blocked by a shield of humanity. Bridget had instantly hugged Isabelle closer to her while Isabelle had cried out and clung to her friend with a vengeance. Harry ran forward and got between the unreasonable father and his terrified daughter, his fists were up and he was prepared to do battle. Jed finished it by stepping forward and pressing the muzzle of his .45 against Baird's temple. The townsmen that were still hovering around the scene backed off even more once the gun of Kid Curry was meaning business. Wisely, the man in question stopped in his tracks.

Joe smiled. “I believe you are outnumbered, Mr. Baird,” he observed. “Again, I suggest you head on home. And tell your sons not to bother coming into town for a few days. Let things calm down.”

“You expect me to leave my daughter in town, with no place to stay?” Baird demanded, just to be contrary. “What kind a' father would I be...?”

“I don't think there's any question as to what kind a' father you are,” Jed commented, his gun still at the ready. “I suggest you do what the deputy advises.”

“And you don't need to worry about your daughter's welfare,” Harry piped up. “She's gonna be my wife here, real quick. Yessir, and a good wife she'll be too. Why, I feel privileged to have had such a fine lady agree to marry me. Ain't that right Kid? Wasn't I just sayin' how much I was lookin' forward to marrying this lovely picture of femininity and how I hated having to postpone things to show respect for the losses this town has suffered. Why, it just wouldn't be right gettin' married with folks still worried and some grievin' over lost loved ones.”

Jed sent Harry a dubious look. “Yeah Harry,” he muttered. “I guess I could get that meanin' from what you said.”

“Really Harry?” Isabelle stood up and came to her fiance. “Is that what you meant? I though you wanted out—that you didn't want to marry me.”

“Aww, Peaches,” Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “That ain't what I meant at all. Just ask the Kid here, he knows. We're gonna get married. Why, I'll go talk to the preacher right now and see how quickly we can get it set up again. Would that make you feel better?”

Isabelle's face broke into a wide grin, and her tears turned to laughter.

“Yes!” she exclaimed. “As soon as we can! That would be wonderful.”

“That ain't proper!” Baird didn't seem to know when to keep his mouth shut. “If she ain't comin' home tonight, then where is she gonna spend it?” And he glared over at Harry as though he were the bane of all his family. “If you think she's spendin' it with you...!”

“She can stay with me!” Bridget offered as she stepped forward to confront the irritating man. “Steven has gone to Yuma, so I would welcome the company.” she turned to Isabelle and smiled with excitement. “We can organize your day and finalize plans. It'll be fun!”

“Oh yes!” Isabelle was practically jumping for joy, which contrasted sharply with the blood still obvious on her face. “We can have a girl's night in! Beth can come over, and Tricia! And Maribelle!” But then her expression dropped and she sent a furtive glance towards her father. “Oh, but my wedding dress is out at the ranch.”

Baird snorted, thinking he had her there.

“Don't you worry about that,” Bridget assured her. “You're going out to the Double J today, aren't you, Jed?”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed suspiciously. “I was plannin' on it. Why?”

“When you come back later, you bring Mama's wedding dress,” Bridget ordered him. “You know where it is? In the trunk under the stairs.”

“Yeah, I know where it is,” Jed assured her. “But I weren't plannin' on comin' back real soon. There's a lot that needs to be done out there.”

“But you have to be here, Kid!” Harry reminded him. “You're my best man, and whenever we're gettin' hitched, then you gotta be here.”

“Well yeah, but...”

“So you bring Mama's wedding dress back with you!” Bridget stated as though it should be obvious. “The rest of us ladies will get everything else organized. Don't you worry, Isabelle. You're going to have your wedding day, and it's going to be soon!”

Isabelle clung onto her fiance and broke down into tears once again. Bridget smiled, her heart and mind now focused on a new challenge. The numerous men in the group appeared to be in a state of shock, wondering how all of this was going to get pulled back together again, considering the disarray the town and the church were still in.

Xxx

Three hours later, Jed had Monty hitched up to a small buckboard they had rented from Eric, and was getting the ice filled 'coffin' containing Ellie, slid into the back of the wagon. With Belle and Jesse stuck in town for now, the plan was for Jed and Sam to head back out to the Double J and do an assessment of the damage done to property and livestock. Jed would stay at the house over the next few days and do whatever needed to be done to at least get the basics up and running again. 

Monty was still tired from his previous exertions, but the thought of going home and being back in his own pasture added a bit of spring to his step. Pacing onto Sam's property, the little gelding actually fought a little bit when instructed to stop as all he really wanted to do was get home. But Sam needed to do a quick check of his place too, and as soon as Jed had halted the buckboard and set the brakes, Sam jumped down and headed over to the out buildings.

The smell of smoke still lingered over the landscape, but when Sam stepped inside the barn, the scent of dust and hay stored for the upcoming winter took over his senses. It was bittersweet to find himself in this familiar place and not hear the familiar nicker of welcome from Ginger. So much had been happening to keep his mind occupied that he hadn't really given his mare much thought past the initial receiving of the bad news. The ache to his heart caught him by surprise now as he stood in the dusty barn isle and stared at his mare's empty stall.

He didn't blame Jesse for what happened, Jesse himself was lucky to be alive. And there were many others, Sam told himself, others who had lost far more than just a horse. But even that thought felt like a betrayal of her memory; just a horse? No. She had been more than that. She might not have been a person, but she had still been part of their family, and it didn't seem right to not grieve for her as such.

Sam knew Jesse felt bad about it, and he also knew that his boss would make it up by giving him the choice of another mount. That would be appreciated, not only because a man without a horse in these parts was unheard of, but Jesse had some fine animals and Sam knew he'd end up with a good quality mount. But he sure was going to miss that little red mare.

Sam sighed, and turning to leave the barn, nearly tripped over one of the numerous cats who called this place their home. An indignant 'ack!' and a flick of the tail expressed the feline's displeasure at the apparent insult, but the pleasure of seeing one of their humans finally home again overruled the rudeness. She returned to purr and rub against a boot and rose up on her hind legs to accept the ear scratch that she was entitled to.

“Hey Puss,” Sam greeted her. He couldn't remember this particular cat's name, or even if she had one. Oh, but then knowing his daughter, she probably did, along with all the other cats who inhabited the barn and kept the mice down. It wouldn't surprise him one little bit if even the rodents had names and Carol simply ignored the fact that the cats were there to kill the rodents. “Where are your buddies?” he continued his conversation with the cat. “It seems you at least made it through this crisis alright. Nobody else around?”

His only answer was an intensifying of the purr and the cat flopped over onto her back and continued to drool and rub against his foot until he leaned down to scratch her tummy. She accepted that presumption for the length of five seconds, then her hind feet came forward and pushing his hand away, she scampered to her feet and ran off to continue with her daily routine. She had done her duty in welcoming the human back to her place, but enough was enough, and she had important things to do.

Sam straightened up and looked speculatively at the stinging scratch laid out along the outside of his hand. He shook his head and muttered to himself at the unpredictable strangeness of cats and continued on to walk back out into the sunshine.

“Everything look alright?” Jed asked him from where he was standing by Monty's head.

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed. “I'll just do a quick check of the house and I'll be right with you.”

Jed nodded. “Take your time.”

Xxx

Coming into the yard of the Double J turned into a circus very quickly. Buck had done his duty and had kept his small herd together and safe during their time in the hills. Once the danger of the fire had passed it hadn't taken him long to organize his group and get them all back home again to await the return of their humans.

The small herd had been lounging around the open area between the two barns, nibbling on grass and Belle's vegetable garden while they passed the time. The creek just on the other side of the embankment had also suffered from their attentions and had been used not only for drinking water, but for refreshing splash games and even a soaking tub. Life had been pretty laid back, and everyone looked content.

All heads came up simultaneously as the jingling of the harness and the clopping of hooves reached the various sets of sensitive ears. Soft, deep nickers greeted their herd mate, and Monty tossed his head and danced a jig in his excitement to be with his group again. Jed had to take a strong stance with him to remind him that he was still in harness and expected to behave himself. The gelding calmed down, but still arched his neck and nickered when a dripping wet Spike came up to touch noses.

Soon, all five loose horses were gathered around them, necks and tails cocked as they danced around the wagon and blew out their welcomes. Jed had to carefully manoeuvre Monty over to the hitch rail by the first barn and actually had to use the buggy whip to get the greeting party to back off.

“C'mon fellas—and ladies!” Jed yelled at them and snapped the whip. “Get out'a the way. Move!”

Karma blew indignantly and trotted off, insulted that her welcome had been so rudely preempted, but she did not go far before she turned to wait for everyone else to catch up with her. Monty tucked his head and began to paw the ground in frustration. He wanted to go with them.

Sam walked up and gave him a pat on the neck. “Easy young man,” he soothed the gelding. “We'll let ya' go with them soon enough.”

It was then that the attention of the two men was diverted from the antics of the herd. A loud, shrill whinny came from the direction of the creek behind the barns. Buck and Spike both answered the call but no new horse showed itself, and Jed and Sam exchanged questioning looks.

“Who's that?” Jed asked. “All the horses that Jesse turned loose are here. Still, I suppose it could be a stray from one of the other ranches.”

Sam shook his head. “I donno,” he said dubiously. “That whinny sounds familiar. I'll go take a look, if you want to check things out here.”

“First thing I'm gonna do is get Ellie buried,” Jed told him. “She might be on ice, but that ain't gonna help for much longer.”

“Oh yeah, good idea,” Sam agreed, emphatically. “Grab a couple a' spades out of the barn and I'll walk up to help you as soon as I see what's goin' on.”

“Well now, ain't that a coincidence,” Jed teased. “Amazin' how you was just readin' my mind.”

“Yeah.”

Jed headed into the barn to pick up the tools he would need, and Sam carried on to the embankment. Coming to the top of it, he stopped and looked down at the pool with much the same expression that Jesse had when standing at this exact same spot and encountering a spectacle of numerous children in their wedding finery, soaking wet and covered in mud.

Sam cursed under his breath, then turned and called to his companion. “Jed! Come 'eer!”

Jed dropped the various picks and shovels onto the bed of the wagon beside the now leaking wooden box that Ellie was laid out in, and cursed his own string of obscenities. He was never going to get this dog buried, and truth be told, she was starting to smell. Even a box full of ice wasn't going to keep her fresh forever.

Still, Sam's voice sounded urgent, and picking up a jog, Jed headed for the creek.

Coming to the top of the embankment, he instantly saw the problem. Berry was lying on his side in the creek, the pooled water nearly covering his barrel. He was fully saddled, and the broken bridle still dangled from his neck, held there by the throat latch that had refused to come loose. Sam was up to his waist in water, squatting down by the side of the horse's head, patting him and trying to soothe his nerves. 

Berry was wild-eyed, his nostrils flared with fear. He struggled and began thrashing with his front legs, trying to stand up. Water splashed everywhere as the horse heaved and scrambled for a foothold. He snorted and grunted with his efforts, but his hind legs were not co-operating, and the exhausted animal groaned and sank back down into the water.

Sam, who had wisely scrambled out of the way, moved in again and continued to stroke the animal's neck and speak soothing words in an effort to keep the horse calm. He sent a furtive glance up to Jed, and as soon as their eyes met, they knew they were each thinking the exact same thing. Another good horse lost to a broken leg.

Jed scrambled down the embankment. He unstrapped his gunbelt and after laying it where it could stay dry, he carefully waded into the creek. He and Sam both had to make sure it actually was a lost cause before giving up on the situation. His approach caused Berry to panic and he made another effort to stand up, and again, his front legs came into play, but something was preventing his hind legs from following through. Berry groaned and sank back down, his sides heaving heavily with the exertion and the stress.

“Easy,” Jed spoke quietly as he approached the animal. He came up beside Sam, making sure to stay out of range of those front legs if Berry began thrashing again. He stroked the horse's face and ran a hand down his neck. “Easy boy. What's wrong, eh? Why can't you stand up?”

He carefully moved around Sam and came up level to the saddle. He continued on, running his hands gently over Berry's back and down the one haunch. Jed couldn't really see what was happening under the now muddy water, but his hands were telling him a lot. The muscles were tight and bunched, pulling that hind leg up and forward, but it wasn't moving. Something was holding that foot in place, up against the belly of the horse.

Jed leaned forward, over the hind quarters and ran his hand along the leg, trying to follow it all the way to the hoof so he could feel what the problem might be. Berry tensed up even more and began to struggled again. He tried to kick out with that imprisoned leg but it refused to do his bidding. Sam held the horse's head, speaking softly, soothing him.

“Easy Berry, calm down,” Sam told him. “You know us. We're not going to hurt ya'. We're trying to help ya'.”

Berry let out a big sigh and settled. Sam ran his hand down over the horse's muzzle so Berry could get a good whiff of his scent and hopefully be reassured that he was surrounded by friends here. Many of the horses on the ranch knew both Jed and Sam, but they were much more connected to Sam. He was the one who usually fed them, brushed them, tended to all their needs and nursed them when they were ill or injured. They trusted him. 

And now, Berry trusted him too. He tried hard to calm his flight or fight response and to let the humans do what needed to be done, but despite all his efforts, he continued to tremble uncontrollably. The feel of Jed's hand running along his hind leg and sensitive belly reminded him too much of a predator taking advantage of his vulnerability. He still occasionally lost control and kicked and struggled even though he knew they were there to help him.

“What's happening?” Sam finally couldn't help but ask, yet still fearful of the answer. “Is his leg broken?”

“I don't know,” Jed admitted. “I don't feel a break but that don't mean it ain't. Every time I get close to his hoof, he starts to struggle so maybe he's broke his ankle. But why is his leg tucked up...?” Jed frowned as he noticed the back cinch on the saddle. “That cinch is awful tight. Let's see...” He ran his hand down along the back cinch, found the buckle and carried on past it. His eyes lit up in surprise as his fingers suddenly came upon the hoof of that hind leg. “Damn!”

“What?” Sam was suddenly really concerned. “What's the matter?”

“He's got his hoof caught up in the back cinch,” Jed explained. “It must not have been tightened enough, but still, how in the world did he do that?”

“One thing I know for sure about horses,” Sam commented. “Is they have an incredible ability to get themselves into trouble. So all we have to do is undo the back cinch.”

“Hmm,” Jed nodded. “Still don't mean that leg ain't broke. He could easily have snapped it himself, trying to get it loose.”

“I know,” Sam conceded. “but let's not assume the worst before we have it.”

Jed nodded, and coming back to the buckle on the strap, he gave the loose end of it a tug in the hopes that the buckle would release. No such luck. Though the cinch had been done up loosely enough for the hoof to get hung up in it, it was now so tight that there was no leeway to pull the buckle out of the hole.

Berry felt the added pressure from Jed's tug and began to struggle again, sending water and pebbles flying in all directions. Jed jumped back and held up his hands against the onslaught of the cascade. Even Sam moved out of the way, but kept his hands on the horse's neck to maintain a soothing contact. Berry calmed down again and lay trembling and panting in the water while Jed and Sam moved in close once more.

Jed tried again with the buckle, but to no avail. It wasn't going to budge.

“Dammit,” he groused.

“Maybe we can cut the strap,” Sam suggested.

Jed shook his head. “It's too tight. I don't think I can even get a blade in there without cutting Berry as well.”

Both men sat and thought about the situation for a moment. They had to get Berry up and out of the creek before they could assess his injuries and tend to him, but they wouldn't be able to get him up with his hind leg bound like that. Why do horses have to do things like this to themselves?

“How about if we undo the girth?” Sam suggested. “If we undo the girth and the breast strap then we can shift the saddle back and it would loosen the cinch.”

Jed nodded. “Yeah. That could work.”

Jed carefully brought the stirrup up over the saddle and easily unbuckled the breast strap,then started to work on the leather knot that held the girth in place. The knot was really tight, as well as being wet and slippery, but Jed kept working at it until he felt the leather begin to loosen.

Sam kept on stroking Berry's neck and speaking softly to him. The horse lay quietly, but his head was up and the whites still showed around his eyes. He was still very frightened, and any sudden move or touch upon his skin caused him to jump and blow nervously.

“Easy boy,” Sam assured him. “We're getting there. Not much longer now.”

Jed continued to work the leather, cursing under his breath when he bent a finger nail back with his efforts. Still, he kept working on the knot and, finally it opened up enough for him to be able to pull the loose end through. He moved slowly so as not to startle the horse even more, but eventually he was able to pull the strap through the rings, and the girth released its hold.

Berry's ears flicked back when he realized the saddle's hold on him was becoming more tenuous. He tensed again as Jed and Sam tried to push the saddle back towards his rump, but he was still lying on the other stirrup and it didn't want to budge.

“Dammit,” Jed cursed again. “It ain't movin'.”

“Let me rock him a little bit,” Sam suggested. “Maybe I can get him off the other stirrup. We don't need it to move very much, just enough to loosen the back cinch so you can unbuckle it.”

“Yeah, but you start rockin' this fella and he may just explode on us,” Jed cautioned.

“Any other suggestions?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” Sam sighed as he got himself into a strategic position. “Be ready to move if he starts to fight.”

“Way ahead of ya' on that,” Jed assured him as he quietly pushed himself away from the horse's side.

Sam put one hand on Berry's neck and another on the fender of the stirrup that was trapped under the horse, and began to push on the animal, rocking him from side to side. Berry snorted in surprise, and his head went up even higher. He rolled his eyes in concern, but didn't do anything else. He also wasn't lifting up off the stirrup.

Sam leaned in closer and then really putting his shoulder into it, he pushed harder on the horse in hopes of getting him to shift his weight even just a little bit. Nothing happened aside from a few snorts and some minor wave action. Berry tossed his head and snorted again.

“How about if I get hold of that bridle and pulled him forward?” Jed asked. “With you rocking 'im as well, he might be encouraged to move.”

“Yeah, that might help,” Sam agreed. “But be careful, and be ready to move out of his way.”

“Uh huh.”

Jed stood up but stayed bent over so as not to get himself higher than Berry's head. Horses don't like movement coming from above them and from above and behind is even worse. Even at that, Berry blew nervously as Jed slowly made his way around to the horse's head. He got hold of the reins, or at least what was left of them, and coming slowly to his feet, he backed away and started to apply a light but steady pressure behind Berry's ears.

Sam began to rock the horse again, and Berry tightened up and pulled back from the pressure coming from Jed. Jed kept the pressure on, and Berry started to become agitated. He pulled back harder and began throwing his head from side to side. Sam quickly got back out of the way just as Berry flung his front legs out in front of him and then really began to pull back.

All of this action did accomplish the task. The loosened saddle slipped back. But now Berry was beyond the point of no return. Feeling the saddle slipping down into an unfamiliar position, he really panicked, and with an angry bellow of fear, he once again struggled to get to his feet. Water was splashing everywhere as the horse rose up out of the creek and continued to fight with his constraints.

The saddle slipped back over his rump, and the trapped hind leg went forward, through the cinch, bringing the leather strap in between the two hind legs and causing Berry to panic even more. He was on his feet, but the saddle was clinging to his rump like a predator out for blood, and Berry lunged forward and sent Jed sprawling into the water.

Berry jumped away from him, plunged out of the creek and began bucking in an effort to get that killer hunk of leather off his bum. He bellowed again, scrambling for a foothold on the slippery rocks and then fell down again. He didn't stay down though and was on his feet in an instant, bucking and trying to scramble his way up the embankment all at the same time.

Unbeknownst to the main characters, the other loose horses had come over to watch the proceedings. All of them had been lined up in a row and observed the whole scenario with some interest, but now it had gone too far. Everyone panicked, and with an intensity that sent rocks and dirt raining down onto the men in the creek, the herd scattered and made a dash back towards the barnyard.

Jed and Sam clambered up the embankment themselves just in time to see various flying tails and flashing hooves heading back to safety. Berry was in their midst, running and bucking for all he was worth until finally, with one final kick, the saddle flew into the air and landed in an ignoble pile of manure and dirt.

The two men stood panting and dripping water as they watched the theatrics.

“I don't think his leg is broke,” Sam observed caustically. 

Xxx

Returning to the barnyard themselves, Jed threw his arms up in frustration and hurried over to the tethered Monty. The little pacer was a solid horse, with a good steady mind and gentle manners, but this new fiasco was too much even for him to bear.

The loose horses were dancing around the yard, heads up and tails waving. Their snorts and sudden bursts into bucking gallops had Monty all worked up and wanting to join them. He was pulling back on his tie with all his might, but being trapped in between the shafts of the wagon was hindering his efforts, and he was snorting and grunting in protest as he dug his heels in.

Jed hurried over to him and grabbed the cheek strap of his bridle.

“Whoa Monty! Settle down!”

Monty stared at him with wild eyes, but after a few nervous blows, he lowered his head and began to see reason. Jed gave him a pat on the neck.

“Good boy. Easy.” He continued to stroke the gelding's neck as he sent a disparaging look over to the loose horses. “Dammit. What else can go wrong today?”

“Don't even ask,” Sam recommended. “Let me throw some hay out for these guys, get them settled. I'm going to have to tend to Berry and make sure he's alright. Can you take care of Ellie on your own?”

Jed's expression dropped. It was going to be hard work digging a hole deep enough for the dog so the scavengers wouldn't get at her. It was a hot day, and he wasn't looking forward to it. Still, he could see the logic of what Sam was suggesting, and he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” he said. “It's gotta be done, I guess. So I best get to it. But now we got ourselves another problem.”

Sam's shoulders slumped. “What?”

“Berry made his way back home,” Jed pointed out. “but what happened to Ben? He might be out here somewheres, laid up, hurtin'. We can't head back into town without at least takin' a look around.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “You're right. He and Berry might'a parted company miles back, but ya' never know. He could be right under our noses somewhere.”

“Yep.”

“I'll get some hay out to these horses so they don't follow you, and then give the barn a good check-over,” Sam announced. “Maybe while you're up on that knoll you can do a quick look around of the surrounding area from there.”

“Yep,” Jed agreed again, and he climbed back onto the wagon seat. “I'll see what I can see.”

Monty's ears perked up when Sam reappeared with a wheelbarrow full of hay and got all antsy again when it became obvious that the hay wasn't coming his way. Jed picked up the lines and made contact with the gelding's mouth to let him know that he was back on duty. Monty's ears went back in disappointment, but he submitted to his job and allowed Jed to turn his head away from the feast and pointed it towards the little back lane that headed up to the knoll behind the house.

Poor Monty really had to dig in his heels to get the small wagon up the hill. It wasn't so much that it was a heavy load, but this back lane was not used often, with people preferring to walk up the narrow trail instead. Rocks were abundant, and there were a few more pot holes than Jed recalled from the journey up there with Rufus.

But the game little gelding got them up, and the wheels and axles remained intact despite the rough jarring and occasional bang into a hole. Jed pulled close to the grave that was already there and climbed down from the wagon to begin his labour. A quick glance down the lane they had just come up showed a steady dark pattern of water that had leaked from the box and now continued to pool upon the bed of the buckboard and seep through the boards to gather in a wet patch under the wagon. Definitely time to get this girl underground.

He pulled out a pick and shovel, and tossed them out of the way, then grabbed the box and pulled it through the opened tailgate and let the far end of it bang to the ground. He dragged it over to a spot next to Rufus, and set the front end down into the dirt. Then, returning to Monty's head, he lead the gelding over to a nearby tree, and unclipped the check rein, so that he at could at least relax in the shade and even nibble on some of the fresh new grass that had come up after the recent rainfall.

He returned to the burial site and stood for a moment, looking over the distant ranch lands. This was a good spot for the dogs. They could rest here and enjoy the view of the house and yard that had been their home, and also gaze beyond the structures and take in the changing landscape, right up until the not too distant mountains took over. 

Some of the damage from the fire could be seen from up there, and Jed felt a twinge of fear tickle down his spine when he noted how close the blackened grassland came to their inhabited areas. He prayed to the powers that be, that his a Beth's own little homestead had survived the attack, and then felt guilty for thinking that way. So many had lost much more than their homes, and he reprimanded himself for being so thoughtless. But he couldn't help it. He loved their home, and it was his first taste of ownership, the first tangible thing that confirmed for him that he was a decent man. So he allowed himself that bit of selfishness and knew that going to check out the state of their property was high on his to do list.

Shading his eyes, he took a slow and careful look around the surrounding area below him. He cursed quietly to himself as he realized he should have retrieved Jesse's spy glass from the house before coming up here. As it was, he couldn't see anything that looked suspicious. He resigned himself to the fact that he would probably be coming back up here later with the glass and take a more thorough look around. But for now, he had another job that needed to be done.

The recent rain had softened the top layer of soil, but the earth had been so dry that what moisture there had been, soon disappeared. It took him an hour of hard work to dig a hole big enough in the hard dirt for Ellie to be able to rest comfortably in and also be safe from scavengers. Finally, it was done and he dropped the shovel next to the pick and stood with his sore hands resting on his hips—and panted for a few moments. His white shirt wasn't white anymore, and the light material was sticking to his back and arms with the perspiration. He glanced over to the wagon and briefly considered getting the water canteen, but then vetoed it. The hard part was done, and he'd get a drink later.

Digging the hole was the hardest part, but getting Ellie out of the box was the most distasteful. He used the pick to pry open the lid and was hit with a reek that made him gag. The poor dog had been left too long above ground, and now she was getting back at the humans for showing her such disrespect. Even Monty looked their way with white-rimmed eyes and snorted his disgust.

Fortunately, they had wrapped the body up in an old blanket so at least Jed didn't have to see her remains at this point. But the water that still pooled inside the box from the melting ice had a brown tinge to it and smelled like a dead marsh. Jed blew out through his nose and then closed his nasal passages, forcing himself to breathe through his mouth so he could carry on and get the job done.

He tipped the box over, rolling the body, the water and the unmelted ice onto the ground, and then tossed the box well out of olfactory range with the intentions of burning it later. Then, grabbing hold of the soaked blanket, he dragged it and its contents over to the grave and dropped it in. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed the shovel and began to quickly cover the body up. What a job! And in this heat too. Damn! Even with Heyes not around, Jed still seemed to wind up doing the dirty work.

Within ten minutes, he had the grave filled in, and was patting the dirt down with the back of the shovel. It was such a relief to be able to breathe again and not worry about gagging. Once satisfied, he picked up the tools under one arm, grabbed the empty box with his other hand and returned the items to the wagon. He got the water canteen from under the seat and allowed himself five or six big gulps before upending most of what was left, over his head.

He sighed with relief and then walked back over to the freshly dug grave. Upending the canteen again, he sprinkled what was left of the contents over the grave as a token of farewell. He didn't really know why he did it, but somehow it just felt right, and he knew he had to do something for now. Once things settled down and got back to normal, the family would return here with a headstone and the real goodbyes would be said and Ellie put to rest properly.

But for now, it was just Jed. He thought for a moment that perhaps Sam would like to be here now as well, since he had always been close to the ranch dogs. But then Jed decided against bothering him. He could come up on his own, or later, with the family if he wanted to. Besides, Jed felt like he needed this time here alone with the dogs.

He was surprised to realize what a strong connection he felt to both Rufus and Ellie. It was as though they were the cornerstones of his life ever since he and Heyes had swung by for that happy reunion so many years ago. Rufus had been there through all those difficult times, padding along behind Jed, sitting with him and keeping him company when everyone else was fed up with his behaviour. Jed cringed as memories of his attitude back then--returned to his thoughts to haunt him. 

What an ass he'd been. Why in the world had Beth even wanted to be around him at that time? But she had. It was like she had known that Jed had needed her friendship more at that time, than he'd ever needed it before or since, and she'd stood by him. And so had Rufus. Rufus didn't care about the things Jed had done or what other people thought about him. Jed had always been nice to him, so Rufus was happy to return the favour. Some belly rubs thrown in on the deal made it even more mutually beneficial.

Then Ellie came along, and Jed smiled with remembrance of her initiation into the Jordan pack. All legs and ears and paws the size of tea saucers going every which way other than a straight line. How she'd managed to stay on her feet with all those bum waggings and puppy wiggles throwing her balance to the four winds, was beyond Jed's comprehension. Even Pebbles and Peanut had learned early on to scatter when Ellie got excited, because it was more than their lives were worth to be caught underneath her.

But she had grown into a real fine ranch dog. One that took pride in her work and pleasure in her family. And then, when it really mattered, she'd shown loyalty and courage beyond the call of duty. She'd willingly laid down her life for the alpha and proved her worth as a member of the pack, only to take herself out of the equation by doing so. She was going to be sorely missed.

Xxx

Jed trotted Monty back into the barn yard, both of them taking note that Sam had opened the gate to the pasture and let the loose horses back into it, so they could graze out of the way. Monty tossed his head and nickered, wanting to join them, but this just wasn't his day for rest and relaxation. Jed slapped him forward and once again, tied him to the hitching rail in front of the barn.

Stepping inside the cool interior of the first barn, Jed appreciated the musty dimness of the light after having spent most of the morning out in the bright sunshine. He waited a moment by the open door and then looked down the isleway towards the subtle sounds coming from one of the stalls.

“How is he?” Jed asked as he approached the stall door and leaned against it.

Sam was bending over by Berry's loins and applying an ointment to an injury that Jed couldn't see. He could see a number of other cuts and scrapes though and a few very nasty looking burns. Berry stood with his eyes closed and head lowered, the picture of equine exhaustion, now that he had come down off his panic.

Sam sighed and straightened up.

“He's hurting,” he answered the question. “I gave him some laudanum in a mash, and he ate it up pretty quick. His legs got cut up quite badly, and, as you can see, some nasty burns. He was up close and personal to that fire, no doubt about it. I guess he and Ben got separated, and he made a bee-line for home. Good thing he did, but I sure wish we knew where Ben was. Did you see anything from up top?”

“No,” Jed informed him. “I thought I'd get Jesse's spy glass out of the house and go back up. Might see something with that.”

Sam nodded. “I'll wait for you here. I don't want to leave Berry alone until I'm sure he's settled.”

Jed left the barn and headed across the yard to the house. He trotted up the porch steps and then slowed right down before coming to a halt at the front door. It was open. Not much, not wide open to be noticeable from the yard, but open enough to suggest an intruder.

Jed's gun was in his hand instantly. He flattened himself against the door jamb and with his left hand, slowly pushed the door open all the way. Still staying outside, he carefully peered in and then took a step and then another until he was inside the entrance way. Nothing appeared to be amiss. Nothing had been disturbed as would be expected if someone had been in here rummaging around, looking for items to steal. All was quiet.

“Hello?” Jed called out tentatively. “Anyone here?”

Silence. Even Belle's kitten didn't put in an appearance. Jed hoped fleetingly that the feline was alright, but then his mind returned to the matter at hand and he continued into the main living room. The house was quiet. Maybe Jesse had simply forgotten to the close the door in his haste to get everyone away from the fire and into town.

Still, Jed kept his gun out and ready as he commenced a room-to-room search of the premises. The first bedroom he stepped into answered all the questions.

“Ah Jeeze.” Jed murmured as he re-holstered his gun, and approached the bed. 

Ben was lying on his stomach, his body only partially on the bed, with his left arm and leg dangling off the side and a boot kissing the floor. Jed touched him but didn't dare roll him over. He didn't know where he could touch him and not cause more damage. His clothes were tattered and torn, and angry looking burns showed through, where the skin had been exposed to heat and flames. And he smelled of woodsmoke. Jed couldn't even tell by looking, if the young man was still alive.

Five minutes later both Jed and Sam stood and gazed down at the motionless form on the bed.

“Damn,” Sam mumbled. “Well, at least we know where he is. Good ole' Berry brought him home.”

“I wonder how long he's been here,” Jed contemplated.

“Hard to tell,” Sam responded. “What are we gonna do with him?”

“We gotta get 'im into town,” Jed said, though without much enthusiasm. 

“I donno,” Sam was dubious. “Do you really think we should move him? One of us could ride into town and get the doc.”

“Then what?” Jed asked. “He's gonna need some serious lookin' after. I think the best thing we can do is get 'im over to John and Mary's place. Maybe we can just lift the whole mattress off the bed and get 'im out to the wagon that way. Better than tryin' ta' lift 'im up I think.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam agreed. “I'll stay out here and tend to the livestock for now. If Berry's doin' better I'll ride in for the wedding in a couple of days.”

“Ohh, the weddin',” Jed groaned and ran a hand across his brow. “And if I don't show up back in town with the weddin' dress, there'll be hell to pay.”

“Isabelle can be a force to be reckoned with when she decides.”

“I ain't thinkin' about just Isabelle,” Jed groaned. “Every dang woman in the county will be out for my blood. And Harry won't be too pleased either.”

Xxx

Using the mattress as a stretcher worked out better than either man could have hoped. It took a little bit of pre-planning to get the bulky load through the doors, but they managed it, and didn't cause Ben much distress in the process. At least they hoped they didn't. It was hard to tell since Ben was not in any state of mind to protest.

They slid the whole apparatus onto the back of the buckboard, and made sure Ben was as secure and comfortable as possible. Both men silently thanked the powers that be, that Ben was unconscious, as the things they had to do to get him moved would have caused him excruciating pain. He was going to be a long time healing from this one.

“Okay,” Jed sighed with relief. “I'll get him in to town. You think you'll be in, in the morning?”

Sam shrugged. “I'll try, but it depends on how badly Berry is injured,” he explained. “He's got some burns as well, and a lot of cuts. If he's okay to put out with the others in the morning, then I'll come on in. Otherwise I won't.”

Jed nodded his understanding. “Alright,” he agreed as he climbed aboard the wagon and picked up the lines. “I'll let Jesse know what's going on. That dang dress is just gonna have ta wait until tomorrow.”

Sam smiled. “Good luck with that.”

“Hmm,” Jed moaned at the thought. “We still have time. If we're lucky she'll find a way to get her own dress, but I sure can understand her not wanting to go home.” He clucked to the horse and gave him a light slap on the rump with the lines. “C'mon Monty, let's go.”

Monty tossed his head in disappointment, but did as bidden, and picked up his particular gait. He was tired and the pace was the most natural movement for him, therefore the easiest. Jed didn't hurry him, not wanting to jostle Ben too much, but they still made pretty good time none the less.

Xxx

Jed didn't even need to pull Monty to a halt outside of John's place, the little horse just seemed to know that this was their destination yet again. He came to a stand still at the perfect spot, and giving his head a shake, he snorted out his relief and his hope that this was it for the day. He was tired.

Jed noted that Monty wasn't the only one who was tired. This past week was really catching up with him, and disembarking from the wagon proved to be more cumbersome than usual. His whole body was stiff and aching, and his legs did not want to do his bidding. He grimaced in pain as he stepped onto the front wheel and realized after the fact that he really shouldn't have jumped the rest of the way to the ground.

Giving his body a moment to get over the shock, he finally took a deep breath and forced himself to ascend the steps of the front porch. A quick knock on the door got instant results. Mary opened it with an expression that showed a mixture of welcome and concern since lately, a knock on their door usually meant yet another injury. Her suspicions were not in vain this time either.

“Howdy ma'am,” Jed tipped his hat, then flinched from the stiffness in his shoulder. “Is your husband at home?”

Mary sighed and nodded. “Yes, he is...”

“I'm right here, Jed,” John's voice came from further down the hallway and was quickly followed by the man himself. “What do you have?”

“We found Ben,” Jed informed him.

“Oh my!” Mary exclaimed. “Is he alright. Oh what am I saying? You wouldn't be bringing him here if he was alright. But is it bad?”

“Yes ma'am,” Jed conceded. “He's unconscious and pretty badly burned. I don't think anythings broke, but...” he ended that statement with a shrug.

John stepped around his wife and was down the steps with a dexterity that Jed envied at that moment. He turned and followed the medical man back down, and Mary was quick to skirt around him to be of whatever assistance she could to her husband.

John dropped the tailgate of the buckboard and climbed up into the back. He knelt down beside the injured man and was instantly doing a quick assessment of his condition. Jed waited patiently for the verdict, and fortunately for his aching back, it didn't take long.

“He has no broken bones, as far as I can tell from here,” John announced. “Some nasty burns and cuts though, and he's very dehydrated. Good idea, putting him on the mattress.”

“That's how we found 'im, Doc,” Jed informed him. “He somehow managed to get into the house out at the ranch, and make it to the bedroom. We just figured that movin' the whole thing was better 'en tryin' ta carry 'im out. Give 'im a softer ride comin' in too.”

“Yes,” John agreed. “I'm sure it helped. Still, I'm not going to be able to move him like this. Mary, if you could get the stretcher please.”

Mary was already up the steps and heading indoors. In many things, she was ahead of her husband when it came to things he would need. The stretcher had been used so much lately that they hadn't bothered to put it away yet, so it was easy for Mary to snatch it up and bring it back out the wagon in no more than a moments time.

Jed helped to slide the stretcher into the wagon and pulled himself up onto the mattress to assist with the move. He was getting pretty experienced with transferring an injured body from one location to another, so it didn't take long at all to get Ben shifted over onto the new conveyance. After that it was a simple matter of pulling him off the wagon and getting him into the house.

Once again, Mary was ahead of the game, and was already in the examination room and getting things organized for her husband to get to work.

“Are his folks still in town?” Jed asked as they got Ben settled.

“I don't know,” John admitted. “I'm sure Carl could tell you.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “I should let 'im know that we found Ben anyways. I'll leave it ta' him ta' track down the family.”

“You look done in yourself,” Mary observed. “You should get on home to your wife and let her tend to you.”

“Yes ma'am,” Jed agreed. “I was plannin' on doin' just that.”

“Good.”

Jed saw himself out, and once again climbed wearily onto the wagon. He picked up the lines and gave them a little flick. Nothing happened.

“Come on, Monty.” He clucked and sent the gelding a light slap. Still nothing. “Monty!” followed by a sharper slap.

Monty's sigh said it all; he'd had it. With a great effort, he got his body into motion and only pricked his ears and picked up the pace just a smidgen when he realized that they were heading for the livery. He would have preferred the pasture out with his friends, but the livery would do.

Monty came to a dead stop just outside the wide double doors of the barn and waited for his respite. Hearing the wagon pull up, Eric was quick to put in an appearance and even quicker to begin his usual beratement.

“I knew it!” he complained. “I told ya' this horse needed a couple a' days' rest afore ya' put 'em ta work again, but did you listen to me? No! Goddam greenhorns, runnin' my horses into the ground!”

Jed sighed as he inched his way down off the wagon.

“In case ya' ain't noticed,” he began, then stopped in mid sentence and changed course. “What am I sayin'? Of course you ain't noticed. You don't notice nothin' but yer horses. And they ain't even your horses! But in case ya' ain't noticed, I'm done in too. Everybody is! It's been a hell of a week, and it ain't over yet. There's still search parties goin' out and injured people comin' in and we're all havin' ta push the limits. People AND horses! It wouldn't a mattered to you what horse I took out, you'd still find somethin' ta complain about, and I ain't in the mood to be puttin' up with it today!”

“Fine,” Eric grumbled. “No need ta' be gettin' hostile. I just don't like seein' my horses run inta the ground.” 

Jed sighed in exasperation, but gave up the old argument.

“Just tend to 'im, will ya'?” he practically pleaded. “Give 'im what he needs and then turn him out on Heyes' pasture with Daisy. He'll have shade and water there, and he can rest up.”

“Now there's a horse ya' could'a took without no complaint from me!” Eric pointed out. “That filly could be doin' a whole lot more 'n just standin' around, lookin' pretty.”

“She's too young and inexperienced,” Jed grumbled. “Besides, I didn't expect to be makin' a round trip so it made sense to take Monty home. If I'd known I'd be comin' right back here today then maybe I would'a took her.”

“Yeah well, she ain't gonna be gettin' any experience if'n ya' don't use her.” Eric had to have the last word and before Jed could retort, the old man took Monty's bridle and led the horse into the barn.

Jed sighed, hands on hips, and sent some silent curses after the livery man. If Eric wasn't so damn good at what he did, he'd have been run out of town years ago. 

With a resigned shake of his head, Jed turned around and stiffly walked over to the main street and into the sheriff's office.

“Howdy Sheriff,” Jed greeted the sole occupant.

“Curry,” Jacobs looked up from reading the paper and took note of his visitors condition. “You don't look so good. What have you been up to?”

“It's a long story, Sheriff,” Jed told him. “and right now, I'm too dang tired ta' go into it.”

Jacobs nodded and offered him a chair. “You want a coffee?”

“No thinks,” Jed declined as he slowly sat down. “Are Ben Boulton's folks still in town?”

“Yeah, I believe they are,” Jacobs stated. “Poor Louise just doesn't want to leave before she gets word of her son. You know how mothers can be.”

“Yeah, well, we got word of 'im,” Jed announced. “We got out to the Double J to find 'im there in the house. He's in bad shape, but alive. The doc seems ta think he'll pull through.”

Jacobs sighed and nodded. “That's good news. The Boutons have had enough hard luck over the years without losing Ben as well. I'll get over to the hotel and let them know.”

“Good. Thank you, Sheriff.”

“Speaking of the hotel,” Jacobs began. “Your group have really taken the place over. I hear preparations for the wedding are in full swing again.”

Jed groaned. “Yep. I'm hopin' they'll wait until David and Steven get back, but Isabelle is all fired up now. She wants her weddin' day!”

“I guess I can't blame her for that,” Jacobs admitted. “Ole' Baird never did treat that girl right, and of course, the sons took their manner from him. I always tried to give that girl some slack though I know she's not the easiest to put up with. Trying so hard to find a man to get her away from her family, she'd end up scaring them all away. I sure hope Briscoe treats her better than what she got at home.”

“Now I feel kind'a bad for the way I treated her,” Jed admitted. “I just thought she was a pain in the backside, ya' know? Too full of herself and only thinkin' about what was good for her. I didn't know her situation at home.”

“Nope,” Jacobs agreed. “Lots a folk don't. I didn't even know the full extent of it until the incident this morning. Joe came stomping in here all fit to be tied. I sure wouldn't want to be in Baird's shoes when Steven Granger gets back to town. Between him and Jesse, they could make that bastard's life shear misery.”

“Couldn't happen to a better fella,” Jed commented sarcastically. “In the mean time Sheriff, I gotta get some rest. I'll see ya' tomorrow.”

“Sure enough,” Jacobs agreed as he also stood up to leave. “If I see your wife over at the hotel, I'll send her along to tend to you. Will you be at David's or Heyes' place?

“Heyes',” Jed informed him. “I'm hopin' most of the young'uns will be elsewhere.”

Jacobs smiled. “Good luck with that.”

“Yeah.”

Xxx

Jed was a bit disappointed but not surprised to find that his wife was not at home. In fact, everyone but Merle and T.J. were off tending to other activities so the house was reasonably quiet.

“Oh good heavens, Jed!” Merle exclaimed as the bedraggled man walked into the kitchen. “What happened to you?”

“It's a long story, Merle,” Jed commented yet again. “and right now, all I want is a bath, somethin' ta' eat and a bed.”

Merle smiled and turned to put the kettle on for hot water.

“Why don't you just sit right down there at the table,” she ordered him, and dished out a bowl of stew from the ever present pot on the stove. “You have some of this stew while I get a tub ready for you. And here's some warm bread as well. I have no idea who is going to be back here for supper as they're all having a hen party at the hotel. You just might have the place to yourself for awhile.”

“You didn't want to go?” Jed asked as he tucked in to the stew. “Sounds ta' me like they're havin' a good time over there.”

“No, no,” Merle sat down while she waited for the kettle to boil. “That's for the young ladies. They needed something like this to relieve the stress of this past week. I think it's great timing.”

Jed rolled his eyes. “I suppose.”

Merle smiled and gave him a pat on the arm. “I'll do my best to keep Thaddeus quiet so you can get some rest. Oh, and there goes the kettle. You eat up, and I'll get your bath ready.”

“Thanks. Where is the little fella?”

“He's asleep in the main bedroom,” Merle informed him. “I can move him to another room so he doesn't disturb you, if you like.”

“No, that's okay,” Jed assured her. “I kind'a like 'im in there.”

Merle smiled. “Alright.”

Forty minutes later, Jed was filled up and washed up and feeling a whole lot better. He came quietly into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He discarded the robe in preparation of settling into bed, but took the time to check out the bassinet that was placed by the footboard.

Despite his exhaustion, a smile played on his lips as he viewed his sleeping son. It was so warm in the house, that T.J. only had his nappy on and had pushed the light sheet away from himself in order to be cooler. He looked so peaceful, sleeping there on his stomach, his little fist clenching and unclenching with some infantile dream playing with his mind.

Jed reached down and gently caressed his back and T.J. squirmed and gurgled but didn't wake up. Jed didn't know why he did it, but suddenly he felt the need to have his son close to him. Quietly sliding his hands underneath the infant, he lifted him up and held him to his chest. T.J. yawned, but settled again and was quite content to be in his father's arms.

Jed padded over to the bed and pulling the coverings back, he settled in on the cool sheet and supporting himself with an elbow, he gazed down at this miraculous little being in his arms. A deep, contented sigh escaped him. He lay on his side, his son nestled in the crook of his arm, and he smiled again. T.J. let loose another wide yawn, and, grabbing hold of a manly finger, went right back to sleep. Jed lay for a few moments, just staring at the child, drinking him in and feeling the life energy flowing through and connecting them together. He yawned himself then, and allowing his head to sink into the soft pillow, he followed his son's example and drifted off to sleep.

He woke up in the cool wee hours of morning to find that his son had been replaced by his wife. He had been so tired, he'd never even heard her come to bed. He nestled in to the nap of her neck and breathed in her warm feminine scent. Hmm, she smelled so nice. His hand found the hem of her nightie and gently caressed his way up her thigh and over her hip, then down into the dip of her waistline, to finally come to rest on a breast. He again sighed contentedly, snuggled in closer to her and promptly fell back to sleep.

When Jed woke up again, it was just barely dawn. He shifted a little and found that though his body still ached, it was nothing like how it had been the previous afternoon. He rolled onto his back and his thoughts drifted over to Ben, and he wondered how that young man was making out. It was going to be awhile before he was out working the ranch again, but between his own mother, and Belle both pampering him, Jed was certain he would make a good recovery. 

His thoughts then turned to his partner and regrets over his own inability to rush to his rescue settled over his heart. He knew he had made the right decision, or at least had been helped to make the right decision, but it still rankled him a little bit. The change in both their lifestyles definitely had its perks, but the responsibilities towards others was still a hard adjustment to make at times. Then Beth sighed and rolled over to snuggle into his arms, and thoughts of his partner gently flitted away.

She coughed, and coming slowly awake, she smiled over at him with sleepy eyes. Then her expression wrinkled, and she gave a little snort, rubbing her nose.

“Oh, you smell of woodsmoke,” she said. “Is it still that bad out at the ranch?”

“It's still lingering,” Jed told her. “Did you know we found Ben?”

“No,” Beth admitted. “Is he alright?”

“He's seen better days,” he informed her. “He's over at John and Mary's now. Jacobs went to the hotel yesterday afternoon to let his folks know that he'd been found.”

“Oh, that's such a relief for them,” she murmured. “They must have been so terribly worried. I almost feel badly about having such a good time yesterday. Oh but that terrible man! Hitting his daughter like that—and Bridget too! They're both going to have black eyes for the wedding, I'm afraid.”

“I don't think there's gonna be many folks there who won't be carryin' war wounds,” Jed observed. “They'll fit right in.”

“I know, but still!” Then she changed the subject. “Where did you find Ben?”

“He was out at the ranch,” Jed told her. “Berry brought 'im home. Found 'im unconscious in my old bedroom. I brought 'im in to the doc's and Sam has stayed out to tend to the horses.”

“Oh yes. Did they make it through alright?”

“Seems like it,” Jed nodded. “Well, Berry got himself into some trouble, but Sam's taking care of 'im. He'll be alright.”

“Good! I would hate to think that any of our horses got lost in that fire. It's bad enough that Ellie...”

“I know darlin'.” Jed hugged her close and kissed her forehead, then promptly changed the subject. “So what did you ladies all do yesterday?”

“I can't tell you that!” Beth quietly reprimanded him and giggled through her hand. “There are just some things that cannot be discussed with the men!”

“Oh ho!” Jed laughed. “you think I don't know what goes on at these little get togethers? It's just like them quiltin' meetin's you and Bridget would go to here in town. Funny thing is, you never come home with a quilt.”

“Quilting?” Beth expressed mock insult. “We had far more important things to discuss than quilting at this meeting. We have a wedding to plan.”

“You weren't over there all afternoon and into the evening just talkin' about weddin' plans,” Jed teased her. “You're all over there comparin' notes, I know it.”

“Hmm,” Beth responded as she pressed her warm body against his. “Funny you should mention that. I think I need to do a bit more research.”

“Oh ho, Beth darlin', you sure you want to be doin' that? It seems that every time we get amorous, somethin' comes along ta' interrupt us. T.J. starts cryin', or folks come callin'. This just don't seem to be the right time or place.”

“I was up and fed T.J. an hour ago,” Beth informed him. “and the rest of the household won't be up for at least another hour. I think we can manage it. IF you're feeling up to it, that is.”

“If I'M feeling up to it?” Jed was insulted. “Darlin', I'm always up for it.”

“Yes, I know,” Beth cooed. “And you're up for it right now, aren't you?”

Jed let out his breath in a deep passionate sigh. His muscles were still stiff alright, but at least, with a little bit of explosive exercise, he knew how to relax one of them. And so did Beth.

Her hand slid over his hip and squeezed his buttock, she pressed into his body, wanting to feel the pressure of his erection pushing against her tummy. She groaned softly, instantly aroused, and moved in to nibble on his chin. Jed was tired but he no longer had control over the situation. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled Beth under him and wasted no time pushing in her. It had been so long, with many false starts, that he simply couldn't wait for foreplay. It didn't matter; she was feeling the same way and was more than ready for him. She was soft and warm and so flexible! She was easy to make love to.

He thrust into her, hard and passionately, thinking only of relieving his own pent up desires. But she accepted him at full force and gave everything she could to help his rush. He came into her so quickly, too quickly. He didn't want it to be over. Now that he was awake and thrusting, he could go all day. He wasn't ready to stop yet. Beth smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the chin.

“Let me up,” she told him, “and turn on the light.”

“I don't want to wake up T.J.,” Jed cautioned.

“You won't,” Beth assured him. “I got him up when I got home and he was up late, playing with Nathan and J.J. And now he has a full belly. He'll sleep.”

“He was up late?” Jed asked. “What time did you get home?”

“Details,” she teased him. “Always wanting details. C'mon, get off me.”

Jed gave her a suspicious look but then eased himself off her and quickly turned up the wick on the light so that a soft glow filled the room. Beth sat up and gently pushed Jed back onto the pillows.

“You just lay back and relax,” she whispered. “I want to try out a new 'quilt' we ladies were discussing last night.”

“Oh yeah?” Jed asked with a smile. “Am I gonna like it?”

She smiled seductively. “I think so, yes.”

Then she surprised her husband by straddling him, but with her back to him. She stroked him until his robust and fruitful penis started to throb with intensity and she smiled as she rubbed it gently against her tummy. Jed could feel his arousal becoming harder and he found himself caressing her firm buttocks, loving how the soft light from the lamp extenuated their perfect roundness.

Beth smiled as she felt his hands on her backside and leaned forward to give him a full view of her peach. Jed sighed, loving how the light fully accentuated every curve and crevice and his fingers just couldn't help moving in and digging deep. Beth took his penis in her hands and leaning forward even more, kissed it on the head, then took it into her mouth and began to suck.

Jed groaned as Beth thrust both with her mouth on his penis, and with her body against his fingers. She had taken control of this session, and Jed felt a thrill with the excitement of it. He was completely at her mercy. But then she stopped what she was doing, and sitting up tall she manoeuvred his penis back so that it stood at full attention, then making sure he had a clear view, she settled herself down onto his rod and allowed it to slowly sink into her. 

Jed caught his breath as the eroticism threatened to strangle him. Beth settled down onto him until she was flush, and then leaning forward she slowly began to thrust up and down, pressuring his penis into an angle that was slightly but so wonderfully strained. Jed stroked her buttocks, then moving his hands down, he spread her crack open so he could watch her fucking him, seeing quite clearly in the soft light as her vagina slid enticingly up and down his rod.

He was in heaven. Oh what a wonderful wife he had! There were no inhibitions here! He was thrilled to let her carry on fucking him until it finally got to the point where he couldn't stand it anymore. Suddenly he grabbed her around the waist and sitting up, he held her tight with one arm, while the other snaked over her tummy, and disappeared into the warm crevasse of her crotch. His fingers sank into the wet, swollen flesh, and feeling his own penis thrusting fast and hard into her depths, he found her button and attacked it with a vengeance.

He felt her gasp, and her whole body arched as though lightening was shooting through it. Her glove instantly tightened around him and squeezed him so hard, he had to fight to keep from being pushed out. It became a battle of spasmodic force, and Jed held on tight, and bit her on the shoulder while he kept pounding her from the back, and stroking her button from the front.

Beth could hardly breathe with the intensity of it as her hands clutched wildly at the bed spread. Her gasps came unbidden as her husband held her captive and abused her as the shock waves controlled her body and it jerked and gyrated out of her control. 

Jed bit into her shoulder even harder as the orgasms came in multiple, crashing waves. Beth tried to stifle the scream that forced its way up her throat just as they both exploded into their glorious climax. 

She collapsed underneath him, and he came down on top of her. There they lay, desperately panting for air with their sweating bodies stuck together and still entwined. Then the giggling started, and Jed finally found the strength to pull away from his lady and release her from his domain. He rolled onto his side, and ignoring the wetness of the sheets, Beth shifted over to cuddle up against him. They sweated and panted and giggled quietly, gently caressing one another, until they gradually came down off their high. They lay there, nestled together in the glorious after-glow while T.J. innocently slept on.

Jed kissed her on the forehead. “I think I like these ladies' gatherings,” he whispered. “When are you plannin' the next one?”

Beth giggled. “I'm sure we'll be meeting again today to continue with plans for the wedding,” she told him “But as for another 'quilting session'? Probably when Randa gets back from their honeymoon. I'm sure she'll have some stories to tell.”

“I'm countin' on you to give me the censured version,” Jed informed her. “I don't need no details.”

“It's a deal.”

The couple continued to lay quietly in each other's arms for a while, the bed spread and sheet all askew. The promise of another hot day was on the morning breeze, and the couple were already in need of a bath to wash away the soft sheen of sweat, and the enticing scent of love-making.

“Remember our first kiss?” Jed asked out of the blue.

Beth smiled. “Yes, I remember it very well.”

“Yeah,” Jed sighed. “that cougar had no idea what he was settin' in motion.”

“Yes, that kiss was very exciting,” Beth agreed. “but that was not our first kiss.”

“Yeah it was.”

“No, it wasn't.”

Jed creased his brow and looked over at her. She pushed up onto an elbow and gave him a cheeky smile.

“I stole our first kiss,” she admitted. “It was just after you tried to escape our ranch house. David had given you a dose of morphine and Rick had cuffed you to the bed. I snuck into the room when no one was looking, and I stole a kiss.”

“You did?”

“Yes!” Beth giggled. “It was very wicked of me, I know. But it was sooo exciting. I thought I was going to faint right then and there.”

“Yeah?” Jed produced a huge grin, the thought that a young woman had been close to swooning over sneaking a kiss from him almost got him ready for another go.

“Yeah.”

“Geesh!” Jed shook his head in mock resignation. “I didn't stand a chance did I?”

“Nope.”

 

YUMA, ARIZONA

 

It began with the simple twitching of a thumb. It was inconsequential to the casual observer. It could have been a subtle reflex, a subconscious reaction to a dream. It was there, and then it was gone. Heyes sighed deeply in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering softly as his mind drifted with the rhythm of the night.

Half an hour passed and no one was the wiser. Neither man had moved, so deeply were they into their slumber. The dimmed light from the lantern didn't even flicker, the air was so still and the night so quiet. A lone mouse scuttled across the floor in hopes of finding some crumbs and was successful in its hunting. Otherwise the cells were quiet.

Then it came again. The twitching of a thumb. It didn't stop there this time; the muscles tightened up and clenched, causing the tendons to shorten and the fingers to retract into a claw-like fist. It released, and again, the hand lay relaxed and quiet on the pillow beside the gently breathing nose.

Thirty seconds of stillness, then an eruption as the hand suddenly jerked and the whole arm spasmed. Heyes moaned quietly in his sleep, then the breath left his lungs and his jaw clenched as his eyelids began a frantic dance. He rolled onto his back as his shoulders and torso began to shake, his spine arching up from the mattress, threatening to dump the juddering body to the floor.

The muscles of his face tightened into knots as his teeth ground into each other. His lids opened to tight slits, only to reveal white behind the darkness. His fingers retracted into fists again, his own nails digging mercilessly into the palms of his hands. The seizure took full possession and rattled Heyes' body like a dog with a rag doll.

Nugent didn't know what woke him. Probably that extra instinct of lawmen and outlaws, honed to perfection after years of looking over a shoulder and paying attention to every sound in the night, no matter how insignificant it might seem. He sat up and glanced over to the prisoner's cell, and a chill that he couldn't explain slithered down his spine.

He picked up the lantern and carefully stood up as he peered through the dim light, trying to make sense of what he thought he was seeing. He turned the wick up, and raising the lantern, he tread softly over to the bars. He knew then what he was seeing, but his mind still had a hard time comprehending it.

It was so quiet. The violence of the attack was made all the more ominous by the silence of the victim. Barely a sound did Heyes mutter, but his body jerked and gyrated to where it must surely desist or explode from the pressure.

Nugent cursed softly while he watched in morbid fascination as the seizure escalated. This wasn't at all what the sheriff had imagined the seizures would be like. The way Shandal had carried on about demonic possession and murderous insanity, Nugent had assumed that such an episode would be more like a wild attack from a madman screaming obscenities and running himself mindlessly into walls. Not this silent but bone chilling struggle between a man and himself.

Nugent was brought out of his trance when Heyes began to thrash even more violently against his unseen assailant and then lost the security of his mattress and crashed jarringly into the floor.

The sheriff jumped and cursed again. Finally gathering his wits about him, he hurried into the office and after opening the safe, snatched out the keys to the cell and hurried back. He felt no fear for his own safety, only concern for the man beating himself up against the hard floor and the wooden leg of the cot. He opened the cell door and entered, getting down beside the thrashing man and grabbed hold of the shoulders.

He really didn't know what to do, so he did the best he could. Holding Heyes on his side, he kept him steady and stopped him from bashing himself against the cot. He reached up and grabbing the pillow, tried to get it positioned between Heyes' head and the hard floor so the man wouldn't give himself a concussion in his frenzy.

It seemed an eternity, like it lasted all night, but in reality its duration was less than two minutes from the full seizure until Nugent began to notice the body relax. Heyes' breathing became more regular and the spasms left his extremities. He sighed, and Nugent noticed the eyelids blink open half way, and the head stirred slightly. Heyes tried to sit up but couldn't manage it.

“Easy Heyes,” Nugent told him. “Best you lie still for a moment.”

“What happened?” came the frightened enquiry that was no more than a whisper. “Who are you?”

“Sheriff Nugent.”

Nugent felt the shoulders tense as Heyes tried to draw back, but there was no strength in him and he gave in, completely helpless in his situation.

“Where am I? Where's the Kid?”

“You're in my jail in Yuma, Arizona,” Nugent informed him. “As for Mr. Curry, I believe he is in Colorado.”

Heyes groaned. He was done for. He was on his own, in a jail in Yuma, and this sheriff knew who he was. What was happening? Why was he so weak? Had he been shot? Had he been sick? He couldn't remember. He tried to sit up again, and this time the sheriff helped him.

“Easy,” Nugent told him again. “Here, I'll get you up.”

Nugent stood up himself, and getting his arms under Heyes' shoulders, he lifted him up until he sat on the edge of his cot. Nugent snatched up the pillow and set it in its proper place again before allowing Heyes to drift over onto his side and settle in. Nugent straightened out the twisted blanket and covered the prone form, lifting the stockinged feet up onto the cot and basically tucking the groggy man in.

He straightened up and stood for a moment, looking down at the sleeping man. Because sure enough, Heyes had fallen asleep instantly. Nugent shook his head. That was the damnedest thing he'd ever seen, and his body was still trembling slightly from the shock of it. Had Shandal been right, all along?Was Heyes a danger to himself, and everyone around him? But his wife seemed fine. He shook his head again as doubt and confusion battled against his common sense. 

Heyes began to softly snore, and that oddly familiar and comforting sound pulled the plug on tension and uncertainty that had settled over the lawman. Nugent chuckled. All seemed well with his guest. It was as though nothing had happened, and Nugent frowned, almost ready to believe that it had all been a strange dream on his part. Almost.

He picked up the lantern and exited the cell, closing the door behind him. He decided not to lock the cell door and take the chance of an unlikely escape attempt, but kept the keys with him none the less. Returning to his own cot, he turned down the light and settled in to take advantage of what was left of this unusual night, but sleep was a long time returning to him. His body was still reacting to the incident and now his mind was racing. He didn't know what to make of that episode, and now more than ever, he was relieved that Mr. Heyes' doctor and lawyer were due in town later than morning. Hopefully those two learned gentlemen would not only shed some light on this situation, but also keep Shandal at bay, and let the sheriff get to running his town, instead of an insane asylum. 

 

To Be Continued


	9. Trials and Tribulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David and Steven come to Heyes' rescue in Yuma.

Trials and Tribulations

 

YUMA, ARIZONA

 

David stepped into the coolness of the office, and did a quick scan of the interior. He took casual notice of the deputy snoozing at the desk, and continued the search for his quarry. He knew Hannibal would be in here somewhere, and the row of cells seemed the most obvious line of focus. And David was not mistaken, although his friend's attitude was not quite what he had expected.

There he was on the cot, lying on his side, with his bare feet drawn up and his arms encircling his torso. His back, like a stone wall of defence, was facing the outside world, sending out the clear message of desired solitude.

David rarely was one to heed defensive messages from his patients, at least not in a way the sender intended them. Too often, a distraught person would send out signals that were the exact opposite of what they actually needed. Whether they themselves realized it or not. The silent scream of stay away! was all David needed to draw him in.

The doctor walked quietly through the office, flicking a slightly disapproving glance towards the now snoring deputy, and approached the occupied cell. He took note of the chair that was positioned strategically just outside the bars and presumed that this was Miranda's usual post while visiting her husband. He sat himself down and gave his friend the opportunity to acknowledge him. David sighed. He know Hannibal knew he was there, but the ex-con was exhibiting that now very familiar trait he shared with his cousin—the fine art of stubbornness.

David decided he didn't have time to play the game.

“Hannibal?”

This greeting was met by an uncomfortable shift in the prisoner's position. The legs straightened out and Heyes rolled onto his back, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. He was at least willing to acknowledge David's presence, but his mood was dark, and David would have to use his best tactics to get the man to relax and allow himself to be drawn out.

“I hear you had another episode,” David stated the obvious. No point in beating around the bush.

“Is that what you call it?” came the sardonic response.

David ignored the rebuke. “How are you feeling?”

A snort from inside the cell, then silence. Finally, Heyes swung his bare feet down to the floor and sat up.

“Why didn't you tell me this condition was contagious?”

“Because I don't believe that it is,” David explained. “I haven't done extensive research on this ailment, but I have read the papers written by those who did. It's an old theory, Hannibal, and one that could never be proven.”

Finally, Heyes lifted his eyes and turned them towards his friend.

“But you could have told me that there are other people out here—especially other doctors, who did believe it.”

“Yes, you're right,” David agreed. “But I felt you had enough on your plate to deal with. Most professionals now are moving away from that hypothesis.”

“Well, I know one who hasn't!” Heyes snarked. “And he's doing everything he can to have me committed!”

“He won't be able to,” David reassured him. “Steven and I won't let him. We'll get this cleared up and then you and Miranda can carry on to Santa Marta.”

Heyes nodded, his mood shifting slightly with the reassurance.

“Steven came with you?” he asked.

“Yes, he's here,” David confirmed. “He's having a word with Sheriff Nugent as we speak.”

“Did Kid come as well?”

“No.”

The twinge of disappointment that flitted across his face was brief but obvious.

“It's not that he didn't want to come,” David assured him. “He was ready to drop everything and come to your rescue. But with Jesse laid up, he realized he had to stay there to take control of the ranch. Things were still quite a mess when Steven and I left.”

“Jesse's laid up?” Heyes asked, concern and contrition sharing his expression. “How bad?”

“Bad enough for him to need Jed out at the ranch,” David confirmed. “but, luckily for you, no longer bad enough to prevent me from coming here. Hopefully things will stay quiet until I get back. There were still a number of people missing.”

Heyes nodded, feeling a little guilty now, that his situation had pulled David away from the town just when they might need him the most. David picked up on the shifted mood and was quick to reassure.

“I'm sure John and Mary can handle anything that might come up,” he commented. “I think John is much like your friend, Walter Morin. No formal training, but still a damn good doctor.”

Heyes smiled wistfully and nodded. 

“How is everyone else?” he asked, concern for his friends taking a firm hold over his own issues. “How is Sally? And Harry! What about the wedding? Beth and the baby—are they alright? And Belle! This must be hard on her.”

David chuckled, pleased to see his friend becoming animated again.

“They're fine, considering,” David assured him, but then turned serious. “Others haven't been so lucky. Lives were lost. Property, livestock and timber. Everything that holds that town together. It's going to take some time for the economy to come back up again.”

Heyes groaned. “Maybe we should all just head back home together.”

“No don't,” David was quick to interject on that. “Everyone is managing.”

“But Sally must be upset, and we've left her alone through all this.”

“Miranda has the same concern,” David commented with another chuckle. “I assure you, the children are seeing this whole thing as one big adventure now. Sally is concerned about Fanny, but helping Belle keep Jesse company seems to have helped to settle her. From what I understand, the fire didn't come that close to the Jordan yard, so I would expect those horses are all fine.”

“And Karma?”

“I can't say for sure, but I would expect so,” David gave the best assurance that he could. “From what Belle has told us, Jesse turned all the stabled horses loose in case the fire did take over the house and barns. Jed seemed pretty sure that his old gelding would look after them out there. It was the best chance they would have and I wouldn't be surprised if they fared better than many.”

Heyes visibly relaxed and nodded his agreement. “Jesse sure was right about that horse. Range smart, for sure. Yeah, he would have looked out for them.”

“There's not too many things that Jesse is wrong about,” David commented dryly.

“Ha! Don't I know it!”

“Hey!” came the explosion from the front desk. “Who in tarnation are you, and how did you get in here!?”

David smiled over at the indignant deputy.

“I'm Dr. Gibson, and I walked in.”

Charlie was on his feet and was stomping towards the doctor, getting himself all blustered up for a confrontation.

“You can't just walk on in here and get all cozy with a prisoner without informin' somebody!” he expostulated. “Fer all I know, you could be plannin' an escape or somethin'!”

David stood up to meet the onslaught of this rather incompetent lawman.

“I assure you Deputy, I have no intentions of helping the prisoner to escape. For one thing there is no real need to since we have brought the means to attain his release.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Charlie demanded as he finally thought to pull his gun and aim it that this unassuming interloper. David cocked a brow, but was otherwise unimpressed. “You bring a gun or dynamite with ya' or somethin'!? Get up against them bars, right now. I gotta search ya'!”

“That won't be necessary, Charlie,” came Nugent's voice from the front door. “Dr. Gibson has my permission to speak with the prisoner.”

“Oh.” Charlie backed off. “Yessir, Sheriff. Just doin' my job.”

“If you had been doing your job,” Nugent commented dryly, “he wouldn't have gotten past you in the first place.”

“Yeah, well I...”

“Never mind,” Nugent dismissed him. “Go get Dr. Shandal.”

David was instantly on the alert. “I need to examine my patient before you bring in another doctor,” he reminded the sheriff. “And besides, I would prefer that your town doctor stay away from my patient, now that I'm here. I think Mr. Granger would also prefer to consult with his client before Dr. Shandal is allowed further access.”

Nugent sighed dramatically, the thought of having to head Shandal and his cohort off at the pass already putting a knot in his stomach.

“Fine,” he agreed. “I'll do what I can to keep them at bay. But I thought you were already examining him.”

“No. I need to give him a full examination,” David reiterated. “In his cell—with some privacy.”

“I don't trust 'im, Sheriff,” Charlie tried to redeem himself. “He said he brung the means to get 'im out. Maybe he brought a lock pick or somethin'.”

“I said, 'I brought the means to attain his release', Deputy,” David explained. “A slightly different meaning than 'get him out'.”

“That's alright Charlie,” Nugent assured him deputy. “I doubt Dr. Gibson here is going to try anything nefarious.”

“Huh?”

“It's fine Charlie!” Nugent insisted. “Go get a cup of coffee or something.”

“But there's coffee right here!”

“Charlie! Go take a break,” Nugent told him. “Go get some lunch or something.”

“Yessir.” Charlie grumbled, and finally remembering to return his gun to its holster, he quickly made his retreat.

Nugent went over to the safe to retrieve the keys. 

“Sorry about that,” he apologized sheepishly. “My wife's nephew. If I want peace at home I have to put up with an imbecile at work.”

David nodded with some understanding. Heyes simply rolled his eyes.

“Actually I shouldn't be so hard on him” Nugent backtracked as he opened the safe door and attained the desired item. “Charlie's alright for the usual deputy duties. He's just not very good at thinking on his feet. I expect you kind of took him by surprise there doctor.”

“Yes,” David agreed. “My fault. I should have informed him that I was here.”

Nugent made his way back to the cell.

“I take it half an hour is long enough for this exam?”

“That'll be fine, thank you,” David agreed.

“Uh huh,” Nugent mumbled. “I guess that explains why that lawyer fella held off coming back here with me. You already tell him and Mrs. Heyes to give you some time?”

David simply smiled and waited for the sheriff to open the cell door. Nugent took that to be an affirmative, and though feeling a little niffed at being left out of the loop, he unlocked the door and opened it for the doctor to enter.

“I'll let you in, Doc,” he said. “but I'm not leaving this office. Whatever you need to do, you do with me here.”

“That's fine,” David agreed, already accustomed to the ways of sheriffs with their prisoners. “I just need quiet, and some privacy to discuss this situation with my patient.”

“Alright.” Nugent stepped out of the way. “I'll be at my desk. I won't listen in, but I'll be keeping an eye.”

David nodded and stepped inside the cell.

“This certainly conjures up some old memories,” he commented dryly.

“Great,” Heyes mumbled. “Just so long as the outcome is different this time around.”

“It will be.”

David glanced around, and stepping outside the cell again, he grabbed the chair and placed it down in front of his patient. He sat down and quietly scrutinized him.

Heyes sighed. “You're staring at me.”

David smiled. “Yes. Sorry. Just getting an impression.”

Heyes sighed again, over-dramatically this time, as he folded his arms and leaned back against the bars. He sent a direct look into the far corner, deliberately evading David's gaze.

“You're tired,” David finally stated. “And angry. You're frustrated, resentful. And you're scared.”

Heyes' brow creased at that last observation. He drew one knee up in an unconscious gesture of protectiveness, and hugged it close to his chest. His expression was showing irritation at David, yet again, slipping in past his defences. But at the same time, his defiant stance was wavering.

“Is this the way it's going to be from now on?” he asked, with just a hint of that despised fear in his voice. “I had hoped—and you gave me reason to believe, that the first time was going to be the last time.”

“I never told you that it wouldn't happen again,” David corrected him. “Only that it wouldn't necessarily happen again. One good thing about this situation however, is that it is indicating a pattern, although it certainly takes more than two episodes to create a reliable pattern. Still, it's something to keep in mind from now on, and could help us to prevent these seizures in the future.”

Heyes raised his brows. “Us?”

David sent him a cynical look. “You know what I mean. I'm in this with you, you know that.”

“Hmm.” Heyes conceded the point. “So what's this pattern you've spotted? Being scared?”

“No, not scared—well yes, I realize you're scared,” David contradicted himself. “And that's part of it, but, I suspect, not all of it. Both times you've had seizures, you have been confined. You've had control taken away from you—hmm, there's that control issue again.  
“Anyway, I suspect this all goes back to your prison time. You're not letting yourself get over that. You're not letting it go.”

Heyes became defensive again. He started to bring his other knee up, but caught himself this time and left that foot on the floor. He wasn't able to stop himself from running his hand through his hair though, and then both hands were clasping the knee that was already pressed up against him.

“And just how am I supposed to get over it?” he demanded. “I can't simply wipe out five years of living in terror! I admit it quite frankly! The thought that I could wind up back in there—or worse, scares the bejeezus outa me! How am I suppose to ignore that!?”

“You need to start trusting us a little bit more,” David told him. “You get into a situation like this and you convince yourself that you're in it alone. That you can't count on any of us—not even your wife.”

“That's not true.”

“I think it is,” David countered.

“I trust my wife!” Heyes insisted. “And I trust my partner. I could always count on Jed. I wouldn't even be alive right now if it wasn't...”

“For Jed,” David finished. “Yes, I know. But you've both moved on into other lives now. You've both married and started families. Your priorities are different. Perhaps you're still not sure how these changing circumstances are affecting your relationship with Jed.”

“Well, if it has to do with being confined, and not trusting my friends to get me out, then how come I didn't have a seizure in Joplin last year?”

“I don't know,” David admitted. “Maybe it's because Jed and Abi were there with you. That subconsciously you knew they would pull something off together. Those two together can be very—resourceful.”

Heyes smirked, then pursed his lips. “Now you're contradicting yourself.”

“Yes I know.” David sighed. “Contrary to popular belief, I don't always know the right answers.”

“Really?”

David didn't miss the sarcasm—and sent him a look.

“Yes, really!” he reiterated. “Especially when it comes to this condition. It's still all so new. Most people, even doctors were so afraid of it, that nobody wanted to take a really close look. Fortunately, that attitude is changing. I've had the opportunity to read some very interesting papers written on it now. A lot of new insights.”

“The only one who needs new insights right now, is Dr. Shandal,” Heyes pointed out. “Otherwise, I just might be going away for a long, long, time.”

“Trust, Hannibal,” David reminded him. “Steven and I will not let that happen.”

Heyes looked sceptical—and dejected. David decided it was time to move on. He scooted his chair forward a little bit, and taking hold of Heyes' uplifted knee, gently pulled it off the cot.

“Bring your leg down,” he instructed. “Sit up straight.”

Heyes resigned himself to the upcoming exam. He sighed, but straightened himself up and sat square. David put a hand on his shoulder, and Heyes glanced up to find himself looking at David's upright finger positioned in front of his face.

“Follow my finger with your eyes,” David directed him.

Heyes' expression took on a bored look. He complied with the instructions without a sardonic response because, by now, he knew there was no point, and David would simply ignore him.

“Good,” David concluded. “You're a little slow, but that's probably from fatigue. I'll check it again after you've had some more rest. Have you been sleeping?”

“I slept really well last night.”

“I meant before the seizure.”

“No.”

“Dr. Shandal couldn't give you a sedative?”

“Dr. Shandal didn't want to come near me,” Heyes explained. “He probably thought that giving me a sedative was too much like giving me what I wanted. Couldn't have that.”

“Hmm. What's the bruising on the side of your face?”

“Oh. Apparently I fell off the cot. My right shoulder is a bit sore as well.”

“Oh?” David stood up to poke and prod at the shoulder.

Heyes rolled his eyes. When was he going to learn to keep his mouth shut?

“Doesn't feel too bad,” David diagnosed. 

“No, it's not.”

“Do you remember falling?”

“No.”

“So you were on the floor when you woke up?”

“No. I was on the cot.”

“How do you know you fell then?”

“The sheriff told me I did,” Heyes explained. “And it does kind of feel like I hit something pretty hard.”

“Or something hit you?”

“Oh. I hadn't thought of that,” Heyes admitted. “I don't think so though. I have to admit that Nugent has been pretty decent through all this. He hasn't been letting ole' Doc Shandal have his way—thank goodness.”

“Okay,” David accepted that. “Anything else?”

“No. Just tired.”

David nodded and began a gentle probing of Heyes' skull, feeling around the back and side for any hidden bruising or bumps. Heyes grimaced slightly as those knowledgeable fingers found the tender areas.

“You sure do abuse your head,” David grumbled. “These don't feel too bad though. Still, you need to stop knocking yourself about.”

“This wasn't my fault,” Heyes groused. “It's not like I do it deliberately.”

“Excuses, excuses” David teased him. “So, just tired hmm? Any headaches?”

“Yeah!” Heyes snarked. “Just now, all of a sudden. Like somebody was poking at me!”

David smiled, but didn't rise to the bait. “Any memory loss?”

“No,” Heyes commented, still feeling a little antagonistic. “not that I remember.”

“Yes!” came Nugent's contradiction from the front desk.

Both men turned to look at him, with Heyes having to twist a little bit to peer over his shoulder.

“You noticed memory loss, Sheriff?” David asked him.

“Yes,” Nugent repeated. “As soon as he came out of that seizure—and I was helping him back onto the cot. He seemed confused. Didn't know where he was and didn't remember me, even after I told him my name. Now, he was groggy, but he appeared coherent, and was talking alright. Just didn't remember anything.”

David turned back to his patient. “Do you remember any of this Han? Any of it coming back to you now?”

“No.”

“Alright, never mind,” David was quick to reassure him. “It may come back after you've rested. Thank you Sheriff.”

“Fine,” Nugent grumbled. “And no, I didn't hit him.”

David smiled an apology. “I understand, Sheriff. But it was a question I needed to ask.”

“Hmm.”

David returned his attention to his patient. “You're tired,” he observed again. “Why don't you get some rest for now. Steven can come and speak with you after lunch.”

“No,” Heyes shook his head. “I won't rest until I know what Steven has in mind. I'll rest after that.”

“Alright,” David agreed and stood up. “I'll go get him and tell him you want to talk.”

“Thanks.”

David left the cell and approached the sheriff.

“Doc,” Nugent acknowledged him. “You done?”

“For now,” David agreed. “But, as I'm sure you heard, Mr. Granger will be coming over to have a word with him now.”

“That's fine.”

“And where can I find this Dr. Shandal?”

“He's probably on his rounds now,” Nugent speculated. “Good thing. You and your lawyer friend can get your talk with Mr. Heyes, and perhaps tonight, you can have your discussion with Shandal. I warn you though, he's not happy about all this.”

“Too bad. I don't want Dr. Shandal anywhere near my patient until he's had a chance to speak with his lawyer,” David insisted. 

“So you said,” Nugent reminded him. “I doubt the Doc will be back until mid-afternoon, so that will give you and Mr. Granger plenty of time. Although, Shandal's friend, Dr. Benson is probably about somewhere. He may want a word with you.”

“Dr. Benson?” David asked. “How is he involved in this?”

“Shandal invited him here to sign the commitment papers...ah, just in case you didn't show up, you understand.”

David's lips tightened in irritation, and Nugent swore his suntanned complexion paled to white.

“Just couldn't wait to have my patient, who also happens to be my friend, sent away to an insane asylum, is that it? Trying to beat us to the punch, was he?”

“I wouldn't have let him do that, Doc,” Nugent insisted. “Even after what I witnessed last night, and that was one of the scariest things I've ever been a party to, I never got the impression that Mr. Heyes was insane, or even dangerous. I sure do wish the governor's message would have gotten to me sooner, as I would never have locked him up in the first place. I would like nothing better than to open that cell door and bid him and his wife farewell. But I can't do that as long as his mental health is in question. I'm just glad that you and Mr. Granger got here before Shandal and Benson began to put the heat on. I'm sure that you and your lawyer friend will soon get this all cleared up.”

David relaxed a little bit. Obviously, this sheriff was no fool—and would not be easily pressured into going against his own instincts. The good doctor decided that Nugent was an ally here, and could be trusted to keep Hannibal safe until the proceedings were concluded.

“The cafe usually has a pretty decent lunch special if you'll be wanting a place to relax for now,” Nugent suggested. “I wouldn't be surprised if that's where you'll find Mrs. Heyes and Mr. Granger.”

David nodded. “Thank you, Sheriff Nugent. I'll check there first. Truth be known, I could use a cup of tea right about now. I”m sure I'll be seeing you later.” 

“I'm sure of that too.”

Xxx

“Relax, Miranda,” Steven suggested. “Here, sit down. I'll order us some tea.”

Miranda sighed, but accepted the offered chair and sat down at the delicately adorned table. Despite being a border town, someone had taken the time to bring in white linen and embroidered napkins to give the cafe a fresh and airy feel, despite the arid temperatures.

Steven sat down opposite her, and caught the eye of the waitress.

“Good afternoon,” she smiled sweetly at the handsome gentleman, who was obviously a stranger in town. “My name's Louise. You folks like some lunch?”

“I'm not sure yet,” Steven admitted. “Some tea would be nice, and perhaps some scones and jam?” The question being aimed at Miranda more than the waitress.

Miranda nodded simply because she didn't have the focus to contradict it. She really wasn't hungry.

Louise smiled at her, noting her distraction, but accepted the order and moved away to fill it.

Steven's hand reached over to give Miranda's a gentle squeeze.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked. “You look like you haven't had a decent night in a week.”

“It's been a nightmare,” Miranda admitted. “It was bad enough that Hannibal was 'detained', but then that ophiolatrist Dr. Shandal had to get involved. And it's my fault!”

Steven had allowed a smile to show at Miranda's choice of insult, but it quickly disappeared with her latter statement.

“How could it be your fault?” he asked. “Shandal is obviously an uneducated lout, and you certainly had nothing to do with that.”

“Yes, but I went to him, thinking that he could give Hannibal a refill of his serum,” Miranda explained. “Well then, of course, he insisted on knowing why Hannibal needed it, and that he'd have to see him before he could simply hand out medication.” Miranda stopped talking and sighed heavily. “He came over to the Sheriff's office uninvited, in fact, I had told him to forget the whole thing, that we weren't interested, but he ignored us and had to come snooping.”

Louise arrived then, with the tea service and scones. She smiled at the lady as she set the light lunch out on their table.

“Nothing like a nice cup of tea and scones to help you feel better, Mrs. Heyes,” she comforted her. “It's hot enough outside without getting all bothered in here.”

Miranda smiled up at her. “Thank you Helen, I'm sure the tea will be fine.”

The couple let the tea steep for a few moments, but Miranda distractedly took a scone, ripped it apart, and began to plaster butter onto its center. Steven smiled and put another reassuring hand onto her arm.

“Relax,” he told her. “We're here to help you, remember? You don't have to deal with this all on your own anymore. So Shandal came to examine Hannibal without your permission?”

“Yes!” Miranda exploded, and slapped the butter knife down against the saucer, causing a loud clatter. Several other partakers glanced her way and she sheepishly lowered her eyes and tried to calm down. “Yes,” she repeated, more sedately. “He seemed to think that he had the right. That because Hannibal was being detained, he didn't need my permission. Then when he discovered that Hannibal had had a seizure earlier in the summer, well! You would have thought it was the Small Pox outbreak all over again! What a horrid man he is! He actually seemed to take sinister pleasure in trying to get my husband sent away for life! What in the world is the matter with...”

Steven's fingers squeezed gently on her hand and gave it a little shake.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Calm down. Try to relax. Have you seen Hannibal yet, this morning?”

Miranda drew in a couple of deep breaths and coyly took note of eyes once again turning her way. She realized that she needed to settle, and made a point of doing so. She picked up the tea pot and poured the steaming golden liquid into their cups; then set the pot back down again. She lifted the cup to her lips, blew gently on the beverage, and took a couple of tentative sips. Another deep sigh as her nerves began to relax and she set her cup back down.

Steven smiled, still amazed at the effect a simple cup of tea can have on the nervous system.

Miranda looked back up at him and smiled. “I'm sorry,” she told him. “I know I'm not being much help to you if I'm upset. It's been a very stressful week.”

“I understand,” Steven assured her. “We don't have to talk about it.”

“Ohh,” Miranda sat back and slumped. “I need to talk about it. There's been no one else.”

“Alright. But just talk, tell me whatever is on your mind. And relax. Have some more tea.”

Miranda actually giggled, but took his advice and sipped some more.

“It's been a crazy morning,” she admitted. “Sheriff Nugent got the message to me first thing, that Hannibal had had a seizure. I thought I was going to throw up, it was such a shock. Of course I went over there right away, thinking that I could give him comfort and reassurance.” She stopped and rolled her eyes. “Arg, what a nightmare. He wouldn't even look at me. I tried talking to him, I tried holding him, but he was distant, like he had withdrawn inside himself.  
“I'm ashamed to say that I actually started to cry. I need to be strong for him at times like this, and I can't be strong—I can't help him be strong, if I'm going to start crying over alleged insults. I knew he wasn't angry with me, but I was hurt that he wouldn't take comfort from me, that he felt he needed to be ashamed in front of me. He wasn't himself, Steven. It's like the emotional side of him had simply switched off.”

Miranda picked up her battered scone, and spooning some jam onto it, she bit into a mouthful, and quickly chewed and swallowed it to wipe away the knot in her throat.

Steven sat back and took a sip from his own teacup.

“I don't know what to do,” Miranda continued. “I don't know how to help him.”

“It doesn't all have to be up to you,” Steven reminded her. “That's why you called us here, remember?  


“I know. But I'm his wife. I'm closer to him than anyone—well, aside from Jed, that is.” Steven couldn't help a smile, but Miranda was serious, and she simply continued on with her thoughts. “I should be able to reach him.”

Steven sat back and took the time to indulge in some more tea himself. He wasn't sure how to respond to Miranda's statement. Hannibal Heyes was not an easy man to understand. On the surface, he was often jovial and considerate, but there was an edge to him, an unpredictable streak that could turn dark at a moment's notice. 

Of course Steven could only reflect on the Hannibal Heyes he knew from his trial date, and onwards. He never knew the high energy, fun loving outlaw with the mischievous sparkle in his eye and his ever ready dimpled smile. He only knew the mood swings that were exhibited at the trial, and then later, the subdued and broken convict who kept his emotions buried and his sparkle dimmed.

Hannibal's marriage to Miranda had brought about many positive changes, and even Steven had seen, what he presumed, had been a resurrection of the ex-con's truer personality. But the edginess was still there, and Heyes' more recent friends could only take Jed's word for the fact that this had not been as prominent a trait before their arrest as it was now.

Now they had these seizures to contend with. He had no idea how a seizure would affect Hannibal's moods, but he could understand how a man might feel vulnerable after having one, and therefore come across as defensive, and perhaps even hostile. But understanding that didn't help to give Miranda much assurance, and Steven could only hope that David, being not only a professional, but also a friend and a relative, might be able to get Hannibal to relax and open up.

“David has been over there with him for a while now,” he pointed out. “Perhaps he has been able to make some headway.” Steven hesitated here, not sure how much was prudent for him to say. Finally, he simply spit it out. “These seizures must be extremely unnerving for Hannibal. I can't even imagine how disorienting they would be, especially to someone who is as intelligent as he is. He probably feels ashamed at the loss of control. Perhaps he feels as though he is letting you down, by not being the strong, and dependable husband that he thinks he is suppose to be.”

“Oh, that's ridiculous,” Miranda stated. “There is no need for him to feel that way with me.”

“I'm sure there isn't,” Steven agreed. “but I'm also sure that the majority of men would feel that way. It's how we see ourselves as husbands and fathers. The protector, the provider, the head of the family. Now he has this to deal with along with everything else. The seizures make him feel weak and out of control. Instead of being the protector, he feels vulnerable. And for a man with his history, being vulnerable means being at risk of attack, of injury, and perhaps even of death.  
“Take it slow with him, Miranda. Keep doing what you have been doing, and he'll come around. He loves you, and he does trust you. He just needs some time to remember that.”

Miranda sent him a weak smile and nodded her thanks.

“Thank you,” she said, and brightened up. “Suddenly I am hungry,” she announced, as she added more jam to her scone. “Have one of these—they're actually very nice.”

“Ah, here you are,” David greeted the couple as he approached their table. “Sheriff Nugent said I would probably find you here.”

“Oh, David,” Randa greeted him, and stood up to give, and receive a hug. “How is he?”

David gave her shoulders a squeeze and smiled his reassurance. “Better,” he told her. “He's tired but, he insists on talking with you now, Steven, before he gets some rest.”

“Well, at least he's talking,” Miranda said as she sat back down again. “That's some improvement.”

“He's not ignoring you, Miranda,” David insisted. “He simply wants to get things started here, so the two of you can continue on with your honeymoon.”

“Yes, I know,” she conceded with a sigh. “I guess I just need some reassurance as well.”

David gave her a hug and sitting down, gave her hand a squeeze.

“He loves you, Miranda,” he told her. “He's angry right now, that's all. And he's trying to keep that anger away from you. He's trying to protect you.”

Miranda snorted, and rolled her eyes.

“I know,” David continued. “It doesn't make sense to us, but it does to him. Just be there for him, let him know he's not scaring you away.”

“Scaring me away?!” Miranda was incredulous, and then again lowered her tone in appreciation of where they were. “Doesn't he know by now, that I will stick by him no matter what? Why is he so...so...?

“Insecure?” David asked.

“Yes,” Miranda accepted that. “He puts on this big act of being so confident, so in control of everything. Then something like this happens, and he falls apart. Why doesn't he trust me?”

“I think he does trust you, Miranda,” David assured her. “More than anyone. Maybe even more than Jed.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Miranda countered.

David smiled. “Well, maybe as much as Jed.”

“Alright, I'll accept that,” she conceded. “I just wish he'd show it.”

“He does, in his own way,” David assured her. “He's going to back slid once in awhile, but he loves you, and he does trust you. Believe me, he does.”

Miranda smiled, and gave an affirming nod.

“It's going to be alright,” Steven put in his two bits worth. “With luck you'll both be on your way by tomorrow morning, and all this will be behind you.”

“Oh I hope so!” Miranda agreed with emphasis. “Sooner, if possible.”

Louise had been quick to spot a newcomer to the table, and glided in to place a cup and saucer in front of the doctor. There seemed to be no end to pleasant looking, professional men coming to town these days. Unfortunately both of them sported wedding bands , and Louise had learned that lesson the hard way back when she was young and foolish; stay away from married men.

“I'll bring some more hot water for the tea,” she told them, with a smile to David. “Would you like a scone as well, or something more substantial? We have a lovely lunch special.”

“Oh, just tea for me,” David told her. “I'm not hungry.”

Louise nodded and moved off to replenish the tea pot.

“So,” Steven asked, as he quickly finished his scone and tea. “What am I walking into over there? Is he hostile?”

“No,” David told him. “Just the opposite in fact. I admit, I was also expecting the local law to be difficult, but Sheriff Nugent seems very supportive of the whole process.”

“Actually, I was referring to Hannibal,” Steven corrected him. “but it's nice to know that the sheriff isn't going to be a problem either.”

Miranda laughed, and the two men smiled to see her mood lifting. She smiled back and nodded agreement.

“Sheriff Nugent has been surprisingly kind throughout this unfortunate situation,” she agreed. “I think he regrets the whole thing now, and would have let us carry on days ago, if not for Dr. Shandal. The sheriff doesn't understand the legalities in this situation, and he wants to be sure he's doing the right thing.”

“Sounds like a wise man,” Steven conjectured as he stood up. “I'm sure we can all put his mind at ease. Shall we meet back here in say, an hour? We'll compare notes, and plan our strategy.”

“Yes, that would be fine, Steven,” Miranda agreed.

David nodded. “Perhaps I'll even be hungry by then.”

Xxx

Steven walked into the relative coolness of the adobe style office and jailhouse. He stopped just inside the threshold and took a deep, refreshing breath of air, and instantly felt better for it.

“Howdy,” drawled a voice by the stove. “I take it you're Mr. Granger.”

“Yes,” Steven answered, and moved forward to shake the sheriff's hand.

Nugent set his freshly poured coffee onto his desk, and returned the handshake.

“Sheriff Nugent,” he introduced himself. “You don't look so good. Your last client unhappy with his verdict?”

Steven managed a smile. “No, Sheriff. Just a minor injury fighting a forest fire.”

Nugent's brows went up. “They had you out there fighting that fire? I heard it was quite a blaze, but to let a city slicker like you...”

“It was quite a blaze, Sheriff,” Steven commented dryly. “I'm just glad I was there to help out.”

“Yes, of course,” Nugent agreed, realizing that he had probably insulted the younger man, but not sure how to take it back. “Well, there's your client right over there. You might have to wake him up.”

“Oh yes. So I see.”

“Now, I know you have the legal right to privacy while consulting with a client,” Nugent informed him. “but like I told the Doc, I can't leave you alone with him, so I'll just be sitting over here, reading the paper and minding my own business. Take it or leave it.”

“Ah.” Steven wasn't pleased about that, and began to have his doubts about how co-operative this sheriff was actually going to be. “Well, as long as you stay over there,” Steven conceded. “We'll try to speak quietly.”

Nugent frowned at the guarded tone coming back at him.

“I am on your side here,” he assured the lawyer. “I figure Mr. Heyes has paid his debt, and even after what I witnessed last night, I don't see how he's a threat to anyone. If his condition was contagious, I expect his wife would be afflicted with it by now, not to mention his friends back home. What Shandal is suggesting just doesn't fit.”

Steven was still a little guarded, not sure if this was simply a ruse so the sheriff could gather damning information to help Shandal, or if he was being sincere. Steven sent him a smile with a curt nod. He went over to the open cell door and did a quick visual check of the sleeping man. Physically, he looked none the worse for wear, but he did look tired.

“Knock, knock!” Steven announced his arrival.

Heyes jumped slightly and opened bleary eyes.

“Oh, Steven,” Heyes acknowledged him as he pushed himself into a seated position. “Wow. Did I fall asleep?”

“It would appear so,” Steven confirmed. “Are you sure you want to do this now?”

“Yes!” came the adamant response. “Maybe a cup of coffee, or something...”

“Here you go,” Nugent offered as he stepped around Steven and handed the prisoner a fresh cup of the steaming liquid. “Thought you might want some.”

“Oh. Thank you, Sheriff,” Heyes smiled weakly and accepted the mug. “You make excellent coffee here.”

“Uh huh.” Nugent turned around and, with a nod to Steven, exited the cell and sauntered over to his desk.

Steven watched him go and smiled quizzically to himself. He chuckled and sat down on the ever present chair by the cot.

“I guess he is a decent sort, after all,” he commented.

“Who, Nugent?” Heyes asked. “Yeah, he's alright.”

“Okay, so—good to see you.”

Heyes rolled his eyes, then frowned when he got a closer look at Steven's face.

“What happened to you?” he asked.

Steven slumped. He'd be happy when the bruising on his forehead healed up.

“Had a head on collision with a five point buck while fighting that fire,” he explained. “Or so they tell me. I'll be alright.”

Heyes grimaced with simpatico. “You gotta watch those noggin knocks,” he cautioned. “They have a way of coming back to haunt you.”

“Ah yes,” Steven nodded. “You would certainly know all about that, wouldn't you? It would appear that you've done it again, yourself.”

“Hmm.”

“Believe me, I'm fine,” Steven assured his friend. “Do you really think David would have allowed me to come on this trip, if I weren't?”

Heyes laughed, and Steven was pleased to see him in better spirits than he'd apparently been in earlier that morning.

“No,” Heyes agreed. “Probably not.”

“Okay.” Steven sent a quick glance over Heyes' shoulder to make sure the sheriff was staying to his side of the office, and then leaning forward and clasping his hands in front of him, he sent Heyes an assuring smile. “So, you want to tell me what is going on?”

“There's some crazy doctor in this town who is trying to get me locked up in an asylum,” Heyes informed him in a whisper, as though saying it loudly would make it happen.

Steven creased his brow. “Why?”

“Haven't you and David compared notes?”

“No. We felt it was best for each of us to get it straight from you.”

“Oh.” Heyes took a deep breath and a sip of coffee. “He seems to think that epilepsy is contagious and that I'm a threat to the public health.”

Steven snorted, and Heyes raised a brow. Steven gave a discreet cough and shifted a little.

“Ah, sorry. That seems a bit outdated to me,” he explained. “What is he going on?”

Heyes shrugged. “How should I know? His medical training from a hundred years ago? What difference does it make? That's what he thinks, and he's even roped in another doctor to second it. They're both chomping at that bit to sign the papers.”

“Don't worry about it,” Steven assured him. “The only time a second doctor can co-sign on a commitment order, is if there are no family members present. The simple fact that Miranda was here would have been enough to block their efforts. Provided, of course, that Miranda was against the order.”

“Of course she's against it!” Heyes snapped back. “but Shandal was using his assumption that she was also afflicted with it as a case against her ability to contest.”

“Ah!” Steven nodded his understanding. “Well, I doubt that would have held up in court, but it certainly would have put a damper on your honeymoon.”

“There's already a damper on the honeymoon, believe me,” Heyes mumbled. “Having bars between you and a law man on stand-by kind of makes a romantic evening somewhat pointless.”

“Yes, I'm sure,” Steven smiled. “I'm sure you'll make up for lost time. Santa Marta sounds like a very romantic setting for amour.”

“If we ever get there,” was Heyes' caustic response.

“You will,” Steven assured him, then reached forward and gave him a slap on the knee. “Get some rest. David and I will compare notes and get the needed paperwork together. Hopefully Sheriff Nugent will be agreeable to meeting with us later this afternoon and we get this sorry mess all sorted out. I doubt we'll even need Dr. Shandal present, since he's not your regular physician.” Steven glanced over Heyes' shoulder at the sheriff reading his paper. “Is that agreeable to you, Sheriff Nugent?”

Nugent waved a hand, without taking his nose out of the paper. “Fine by me. I'll be here all afternoon.”

Steven and Heyes locked gazes and smiled. Heyes rolled his eyes.

Steven stood up and prepared to leave. “Alright, Hannibal. We'll talk later today.”

“Okay,” Heyes agreed, already sounding relieved. “Ahh...” Steven stopped in his tracks and looked back at him. “How's Miranda? Is she upset?”

“She was a little bit, yes,” Steven admitted and Heyes groaned. “She's doing better now, though. David is with her. She had her feelings hurt, but she understands.”

Heyes nodded, but still looked contrite. “I'll make it up to her.”

“I'm sure you will.”

Xxx

Two hours later, three very determined looking people, two men and one woman, were striding purposely towards the jailhouse. David and Steven both carried satchels stuffed with paperwork they had brought with thim to use in defence of their case, while Miranda carried with her an air of righteous indignation that even Morrison would have cringed at.

Charlie, stepping out of the office to conduct his afternoon rounds, felt his eyes widen in surprise and he deftly nipped out of their way.

“Is the sheriff inside?” Steven asked the deputy.

“Sure is,” Charlie nodded, showing some relief at choosing this time to leave. “He's kind'a been waitin' on ya'.”

“Good.”

The three people marched into the office, and Charlie carried on his way, but then brought himself up short when he spotted two more very determined people heading his way. Not surprisingly, Doctors Shandal and Benson had gotten wind of the newcomers in town, and were damned if they were going to get left out of the proceedings.

They came on like a mismatched pair of runaway horses, and didn't even acknowledge the deputy as they surged past him and through the open door of the jailhouse.

Charlie cringed at the thought of that encounter, and picking up the pace, hurried away from the vicinity, just in case he was called back in to mediate.

Inside the office, Nugent stood up from his desk as the entourage entered and came around to greet the group.

“Gentlemen. Mrs. Heyes.” He motioned to chairs that had already been placed around his desk in preparation of this meeting. “Have a seat. As you can see, our guest of honour is asleep again, but I don't suppose it's absolutely necessary for him to be present.”

The three visitors glanced back to Heyes' cell, and Steven raised a brow in mild surprise.

“You're not locking him in, Sheriff?” he asked.

“I highly doubt he's going to run off now,” Nugent reasoned and then smiled. “It's not too likely that you're all imposters, and this is just one big con...” He stopped in mid-sentence and frowned as another thought occurred to him. “Of course, he's known for pulling elaborate con games, isn't he?”

The office went silent for a moment as a slight dread settled over the visitors. Was Heyes' past now going to jump up and bite them all in the ass—again!? Then Nugent waved the thought away and chuckled.

“Naw, forget it,” he said. “I think I've been in this office enough years to be able to tell when something's not right. And if I am mistaken, then it'll serve me right for being a fool. Sit down, please. Let's get this done.

Relief settled over the group and everyone prepared to take their seats, when the two latecomers stormed into their presence.

“Sheriff Nugent!” Shandal began, with an air of self-righteous indignation. “Were you preparing to conduct these proceedings without me?”

“Yeah,” Nugent grumbled. “That had been the plan.”

Shandal's expression darkened. “I have every right to be included in this,” he retorted. “I am the attending physician.”

“You are not the attending physician!” Miranda snapped at him. “You came in here to examine my husband against my expressed wishes.”

“The man was ill and required attention,” Shandal reasoned.

“He was not ill!” Miranda insisted. “He simply needed...!”

Steven put a hand on Miranda's arm to calm her down.

“Let's not argue,” he reasoned. “This is a legal proceeding, as such, so let's conduct ourselves in a respectful manner.” He extended his hand to Shandal in greeting. “I'm Mr. Granger, Mr. Heyes' attorney.”

“Yes, of course, you're right,” Shandal agreed and shook hands. “I'm Dr. Shandal and this is my colleague, Dr. Benson.”

“I'm David Gibson, M.D.,” David greeted the other doctors. “I'm the Heyes family's rightful physician.”

The other two doctors shook hands with David, but were instantly guarded by his stand-offish greeting. Steven smiled at his friend, but also included a subtle warning that David be nice.

“Alright,” Nugent said. “Let's get on with this. I'm afraid we've run out of chairs, so some of you will have to stand.”

“You're welcome to use this chair,” came Heyes' voice from directly behind Shandal. “I don't mind standing.”

Shandal jumped as though he'd been goosed, and his complexion paled at the sight of the contaminated man standing within his personal space. He quickly moved away to the other side of the desk, as though that would actually make any difference to the state of his health.

“That's quite alright,” he stammered. “I'm fine standing.”

“Oh. Dr. Benson?”

“NO!” Benson declined as he also moved over to stand beside his friend. “I suggest we simply get on with this. As quickly as possible!”

Miranda, who had seen her husband rise from his cot, pick up the chair in his cell, and quietly come over to join the group, smiled to see him back to his old, mischievous self. She moved over to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Having done that, she sent a pointed look to the two doctors, letting them know exactly what she thought of their 'contagion'. 

Heyes grinned, and took his wife in his arms for a real hug, and a full-blown kiss.

“Alright, alright!” Nugent told them, though he was trying to hide a smile himself. “Enough theatrics. Down to business.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Steven agreed. “Let's begin. The first matter at hand is the condition of Mr. Heyes' parole and subsequent pardon, which also includes his legal standing as a citizen and his right to cross the border into Mexico.”

“I think that has already been established, Mr. Granger,” Nugent responded. “I received the updated information concerning Mr. Heyes' legal standing the same day I received your telegrams. Although, it is my opinion that, considering his previous legal inconveniences, it would be wise for him to carry some documentation on himself if he's going to be travelling outside his own county.”

“I agree, Sheriff Nugent,” Steven responded as he was taking some documents out of his satchel. He stood up and extended one of the documents for the sheriff to inspect. “Is this the same document that you received from the Governor's Office?”

Nugent took the document and quickly scanned over the information.

“Yes, that's it,” he agreed, and handed it back to Steven.

Steven took it, and offered it to Dr. Shandal. “Doctor,” he said. “If you would please take a moment to read over this document.”

Shandal took the offered papers, set them down on the desk, and with one hand placed on either side of them, he hooked his long body over the information like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. His sharp features appeared tight and irritated at this inconvenience, but he complied with the lawyer's wishes.

After a moment of both himself and Benson dissecting the fine print, Shandal grunted and pushed the documents back towards Steven.

“Fine,” he conceded. “But my point here has nothing to do with his 'legal' right to cross the border...”

“I realize that, Dr. Shandal,” Steven assured him. “But it's important that you realize that he does have that legal right. Do you accept this document as being official and correct?”

“It appears to be so.”

“Dr. Shandal, do you accept this document as being official and correct?” Steven repeated, pointedly.

Shandal and Benson exchanged glances, and Benson shrugged. Shandal sighed as though all this was beneath his dignity.

“Yes,” he agreed, with an exaggerated show of boredom. “I accept this document as being official and correct.”

“Thank you.” Steven then pulled out another single sheet of paper and pushed it over to Shandal. “This simply states that you agree that a full pardon has been granted and issued to Hannibal Ellstrom Heyes, and that this notice is official and correct. If you would please sign it.”

“Oh for goodness sakes!” Shandal balked at the instructions. “This is ridiculous. Why must we play these silly games? I'm not questioning his pardon. I simply want him committed to an asylum where he will be kept safe, from himself and from others! It would be for his own good!”

Steven put a hand on Miranda's arm to diffuse the eruption he had felt coming, but he never took his eyes off Shandal.

“First things first, Dr. Shandal,” he reasoned with him. “If you would please sign the document, and Dr. Benson can sign as witness. Then we can move on.”

“I see no harm in signing these,” Benson encouraged his friend. “As you say, this has nothing to do with the man's physical or mental state, and those are the issues that are truly at hand here.” 

“Hmm, yes, I suppose,” Shandal reluctantly agreed.

“Here you go, Doc,” Nugent offered as he pushed the ink jar and pen in his direction. “All ready for you.”

“Yes, well...” Shandal took the pen, and dipping it into the ink, he quickly wrote out his name. He handed the pen over to Benson, who also added his signature as witness, and then both men looked at Steven as though expecting some kind of reward for their co-operation.

“Thank you,” was all Steven gave them as he retrieved the paper and checked the signatures. He then signed the paper himself and dated it. “Now, Sheriff, if you would please sign as a witness to my signature.”

“Sure will,” Nugent agreed, and quickly did his part.

“Okay,” Steven sat back down, and reached into his satchel once again. This time he pulled out a letter size envelope and handed it to Heyes. “Hannibal, I suggest that you never again leave home without this on your person.”

Heyes took it, and opening it up, he quickly surveyed the contents and then smiled.

“My copy of the pardon.”

“Yes!” Steven confirmed. “Fortunately, Jed knows the combination to your safe.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Miranda breathed as she peered into the envelope with her husband. “Who would have thought that such a simple piece of paper could mean so much.”

Heyes grinned at her, and tucking the paper back into its envelope, he handed it to his wife.

“Here,” he said. “I'll give it to you for safekeeping.”

Miranda accepted it, and folding it in half, she slipped the envelope into her belt purse.

“There!” she announced. “Now you can't go anywhere without me!”

“That suites me just fine,” Heyes agreed and leaned over to her for another kiss. 

She willingly obliged.

“Oh for goodness sakes, young woman!” Shandal practically yelled at her. “Stop kissing him!”

“You do seem intent on putting yourself at unnecessary risk,” Benson agreed. “Not to mention the rest of us. Really, Sheriff, is it necessary for this man to be present during these proceedings? It really isn't safe.”

“If his condition is as contagious as you two seem to think, then you've already been exposed,” Nugent caustically pointed out. “So why don't you stop worrying about it?”

“I could put you at risk for a broken nose,” Heyes suggested, then took note of the hooked honker extending from Shandal's face, and grinned.

“Hannibal,” Steven warned him. “I seem to recall it was this type of behaviour that got you into trouble the first time around.”

“Oh no,” Heyes contradicted him. “I was much worse then.”

Miranda squeezed his arm. “Hannibal, be quiet,” she suggested. “Let Steven do his job.”

Heyes sat back in his chair and sent Shandal a crocodile smile. His frustration at being cooped up for days on end, all because of this man's uninformed paranoia, was beginning to erode his patience.

“Fine,” he agreed. “Steven. Proceed.”

“Thank you,” Steven accepted, dryly. “The next matter that needs to be dealt with pertains to Mr. Heyes' mental and physical health and whether or not he is a risk to himself and to others around him. Is that basically your complaint Dr. Shandal?”

“Yes,” Shandal agreed. “The man needs to be hospitalized. Epilepsy is a highly contagious disease. It can also be passed on genetically. I hope and pray that it is not already too late!” And he cocked an eyebrow at Miranda, followed by a flash of a glance to her midriff.

Miranda's eyes widened and the colour on her face heightened to an explosive level. A mother bobcat springing to her kittens' defence would have been preferable to the attack that would have been launched at Shandal if David hadn't been quick to intervene.

“I beg to differ,” David shouted as he jumped to his feet and blocked Miranda from leaving her chair. Both Nugent and Steven had reacted to the threat as well, but relaxed when they saw that David had it under control. Heyes hadn't moved a muscle, other than to smile wickedly.

“Studies done in Britain on this condition and the people who suffer from it, have shown no indication of contagion,” David continued. “Nor have these studies made any suggestion of a genetic link. In fact, those patients who have been hospitalized for 'treatment' and placed into isolation in the past, displayed a worsening of their condition rather than an improvement. Needless to say, enforced sterilization of patients did little to encourage co-operative behaviour.”

“Of course they have worsened,” Shandal protested. “The disease is degenerative. Fortunately these patients were placed into isolation before their mental health degenerated to the point of violent aggression. And don't try to tell me they don't become violent! It is well documented that these patients become dangerously aggressive as time goes on. Many even turn that aggression onto themselves and commit suicide.”

“Yeah!” Heyes exploded. “Because they're locked up in a loony bin, when there's actually nothing wrong with them! All you need to do is spend a year in prison to know what kind of behaviour that environment breeds! In fact, why don't you give it a try, Shandal? It might help you in your research.” 

“There you go!” Shandal pointed out. “A prime example of the effects of this illness. How can you say that this man is safe to have out among normal people?”

“Listen, you little...”

“Settle down!” Steven demanded. “Hannibal, don't do this again. Keep in mind that you are only out of your cell right now because Sheriff Nugent has permitted it. Keep this up and I will suggest that he put you back there. Do you understand me?”

“Actually, Sheriff?” Miranda spoke up. “Would you permit me to escort my husband over to the cafe for a late lunch?”

“I'm not so sure that's a good idea, ma'am,” Nugent responded. “Allowing him privileges within this office is one thing, but for the two of you to be out the door on your own...what guarantee do I have that you'll come back?”

Miranda turned beseeching eyes to Steven. “Can't you write up some kind of an agreement or something, Steven?” she asked. “Surely you and David will vouch for us.”

“I believe that is beside the point, Mrs. Heyes,” Benson pointed out. “The question being debated here, is whether or not Mr. Heyes is safe to be allowed out in public. We feel that he is not. For him to casually walk out of here and go to the cafe for lunch would make our whole case a moot point.”

“That settles it,” Heyes announced as he pushed himself to his feet. “Let's go. I'm hungry.”

“Hold on!” Nugent was on his feet just as fast, and came around his desk to stand between Heyes and the door. “I'm afraid you're not going anywhere. Not yet. Mrs. Heyes, I understand what you're trying to do here. And I agree with you; I think it best if Mr. Heyes not be here for these proceedings, but I can't let him go walking around town like everything's been settled.”

“I agree,” Steven put in. “You're too close to this, Hannibal. Perhaps you need to take a time out.”

Heyes sighed. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But what do you propose to do? I can still hear what is going on from my cell, remember.”

“I know,” Nugent told him. “There's an isolation cell out back where you can wait...”

Heyes tensed just ever so slightly. “Isolation cell?”

“No, no, it's nothing like that,” Nugent assured him. “Hasn't been used for that in years. In fact, we fixed it up and made it into a bunk room sort of thing. Goodness knows I've slept in there a few times. But it's secure. You can go and sit with him, ma'am, if you like.”

“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “I will, thank you.”

“Good idea,” David interjected, and sent Miranda a meaningful look.

Nugent took Heyes by the arm and lead him around the front of the desk where the sheriff paused to get a set a keys out of the drawer. That done, he directed Heyes to the back door of the office, and with Miranda following behind, they headed outside to the out building.

“I think I'd better go along and check this out,” Steven announced as he stood up to follow them. “I just want to make sure everything is on the up and up.”

“Yes,” David agreed, not wanting to say too much in front of the other doctors present. But words had not been necessary, all of Heyes' friends knew by now that he did not do well in confined spaces.

He watched Steven leave, hoping all would be well with this unexpected turn of events. The jailhouse settled into a quietness that was stark in comparison to the recent blow up, and the three doctors were left to stare silently across the desk at one another.

Xxx

“There you go,” Nugent said after he had unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I'm sure you'll be comfortable enough in here.”

Heyes stepped forward and peered into the small shed. It was made from the same adobe material as the jail house, and had a number of barred windows running along each side of it, so it would be cool and airy enough. There wasn't much room for more than the present cot, but it was clean and looked welcoming enough.

Still Heyes grumbled. “Looks like just another jail cell.”

“That's because it is,” Nugent reasoned. “It won't be for long in any case. Just relax and take some time out.”

“Looks accommodating enough,” Steven observed. “I've seen worse. Besides, the sheriff is right. I don't see this taking much more than half an hour. David and I came prepared for a fight, but this Dr. Shandal is basing his case on outdated information and misconceptions. We'll have both of you on your way very soon.”

“In the mean time, Mr. Heyes...please.” And Nugent gestured for Heyes to enter the small room.

Heyes sighed and stepped in. Miranda came around the other two men, and was about to join her husband in his confinement, but Nugent put a hand on her arm, and stopped her in mid stride.

“Sorry, ma'am,” he said, shaking his head. “I said you could keep him company, but I didn't say you could sit in the cell with him.”

“Oh Sheriff, really!” Miranda complained, and turned beseeching eyes to their lawyer. “Steven, can't you do something?”

“Sorry, Miranda,” he told her. “It's his jail, his rules. Here's a place where you can sit, right outside the door, and keep him company. Just like inside.”

Miranda drooped. Both she and her husband were getting tired of this enforced separation.

Nugent closed the barred door on the occupant, and turned the lock. Then he smiled at Miranda as she settled herself on the bench beside the door.

“Ma'am,” he said. “I'll be back periodically to check up on you, in case this does take longer than we think. Don't go anywhere.”

A sardonic laugh from Heyes could be heard coming from inside the room as the two men took their leave to continue negotiations. Miranda sent an arched look after them, but softened her expression as she turned it towards her now pacing husband.

“This is ridiculous,” Heyes was grumbling. “I'm a part of this, I should be able to witness what is going on. I can't believe Steven actually let Nugent get away with this. I thought he and David were here to help me, not back up the local law enforcement.”

“My, aren't you in a state,” Miranda commented. “Actually this serves you right, the way you were behaving in there.”

“The way I was behaving!” Heyes snarked. “What about Shandal and his buddy? The things they're saying...!”

“I know,” Miranda agreed. “But you have to let Steven and David do their jobs. What was that all about? The help we needed is here now, and you decide to start needling the opposition? You weren't doing yourself any favours.”

“It looked to me like you were getting ready to murder Shandal yourself,” Heyes countered. “Maybe this is Nugent's way of getting rid of both of us.”

“Could be,” Miranda agreed with a smile. “And you're right. I did lose control in there. That man can be so insufferable.” 

Heyes ran a hand through his hair, and sat down on the end of the cot, which pretty much put his knees up against the bars of the door.

“I know,” he conceded. “I'm just so fed up with all this. Some honeymoon! You must be so disappointed.”

“It's alright,” she assured him. She reached through the bars and took his hand in hers. “I'm sure we'll find ways to make it up.”

Heyes grinned cheekily, his dimples digging in deep. “You've been thinking about this, have you?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly as she caressed his palm, and then began to massage the underside of his lower arm. “Relax.”

Heyes sighed and closed his eyes. It felt good, what she was doing. It hurt a little bit, but he could feel the muscles in his forearm begin to loosen, and gradually the pain disappeared.

“You're so tense,” Miranda whispered as she gently put the one arm down, and picked up the other. “You're like a steel trap, getting ready to snap. No wonder you're having seizures. You've got to learn to relax.”

She was right. Heyes hadn't realized how keyed up he was, until she began to work her magic on him. He could feel the stress slowly slipping away, as her massaging fingers moved slowly further up his arm. When she was finished with the one arm, she went back to the other and worked it all the way up to the shoulder.

Heyes leaned closer, protruding his arms further through the bars, so she could reach to the top of his shoulders and massage the muscles in his neck.

He groaned with pleasure, and began to move his neck from side to side, stretching the tight muscles as the warmth from her fingers soaked into them. His tiredness re-emerged as his attack of nervous tension began to wear out, and he rested his forehead against the bars as Miranda continued to work the tight muscles around his neck and shoulders.

He was almost falling asleep when he felt her warm breath tickling his nose. He opened his eyes to find himself staring into the dark blue depth of hers, and all his troubles faded away. He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss through the bars. His hands found her elbows, and standing up, he brought her up with him, encircling her waist as they rose. He pulled her in close, and felt the delicious softness of her body pressing in against him. His one hand drifted down to squeeze her buttock, as man and wife melded into a tongue-filled kiss.

Xxx

Coming back into the office, both Steven and Nugent noticed the strain in the atmosphere. The two returning men exchanged meaningful glances as they sat down in their respective chairs and prepared to continue the session.

“Is Hannibal alright out there?” David asked quietly.

“Yes,” Steven assured him. “It's very comfortable, and I'm sure Miranda will help to calm him down”

“It is very unfortunate, what this disease will do to people,” Benson commented. “As we could all see, he is volatile and somewhat unpredictable. The sooner we can get him into medical care, the much better off he will be.”

“And that brings us back to the second matter at hand,” Steven interjected before David could respond. “You are aware, I'm sure, that in order for someone to be committed to an institution such as the one you are both suggesting, there must be both a doctor and a close family member in agreement.”

“Of course,” Shandal responded, appearing insulted. “But the family member must be of sound mind themselves, then preferably a male or, in the case where there is no male family member, two doctors can accomplish the same task. This is why I requested that Dr. Benson make the trip to assist in this matter.”

“There is no stipulation that the family member needs to be male,” Steven countered. “But even if that were the case, Mr. Heyes has a male cousin who would be very much against what you are trying to do here. Indeed, he wished to join us on this trip, but at the time, we didn't see the need, and his attention is required elsewhere. We can summon him, if you insist, but I expect you would regret doing so. As it is, Mrs. Heyes is legally capable of making this decision, and I believe she has made it clear that she has no intentions of supporting this action.”

“I have known Mrs. Heyes for a number of years now,” David interjected. “In fact, she is my wife's cousin. I knew her for some time before she was introduced to Mr. Heyes, and I can assure you, her behaviour and personality have not changed. As their family doctor, I am confident that I would have noticed any changes in her conduct long before anyone else would have. I deem her to be of sound mind and quite capable of understanding these circumstances.”

Shandal ignored David's contribution, since as far as he was concerned, Mrs. Heyes was no longer a factor. He switched his attention to the new threat and made another counter move. “If you are referring to Mr. Curry, I doubt very much that his opinion would carry much weight. For one thing, he is also an outlaw, who would have no issues with lying in order to support his partner. For another, considering how much time he has spent in the company of Mr. Heyes, I expect he is also suffering from this condition. Taking into consideration both these facts, anything Mr. Curry might have to say would be questionable. Hardly a reliable choice.”

“And what about myself?” David snapped at his opposition, feeling irritated that he had been shut out of the negotiations. “As I have just stated, I am also a relative of Mr. Heyes, from the other side of the family. I come from a well respected family of accredited physicians and am indeed an M.D. myself. I have also studied psychology and physiology. I have published a number of papers on both these topics that have been well received, and two are being used for teaching purposes in universities back East. I have also done extensive research on muscle injury and treatment and have published an extensive book on that topic. I am also a qualified councillor. Are you going to suggest that I am unreliable and my opinion biased?”

Shandal was determined to remain unimpressed and looked down his nose at Dr. Gibson while reluctantly responded to the man's counter attack. “Perhaps you are too close to the people involved to see the gradual change, Dr. Gibson. In a situation such as this, it might be preferable for an outside doctor to make these decisions.”

David's jaw tightened in anger at the blatant insult, and the self-appointed mediator stepped in.

“Enough of this!” Nugent demanded. “Dr. Shandal, you are deliberately blocking every effort of these men to meet your demands. From the way you are talking, it would suggest that everyone who has had any contact with Mr. Heyes at all must therefore be affected by his condition. If that is your argument, then you would also be at risk and therefore, your opinion invalid. You have two people right here who are capable of making sound judgements. I suggest that you drop this line of attack so we can all get down to the matter at hand.”

“We are merely looking out for Mr. Heyes' best interests,” Benson commented to give his associate time to compose himself. “We are simply pointing out that Mrs. Heyes is far too emotional, and as is so often the case considering her gender, far too irrational to make a sound decision. And that Dr. Gibson, who is not only the patient's regular doctor, but apparently a family member as well, is too close to the matter to see things as he should.”

“Then you would have to say the same thing about any relative, male or female, who was brought forth to give an opinion,” Nugent pointed out. “In essence, you are cancelling out your own stipulation. You will accept Dr. Gibson and Mrs. Heyes as the family members you requested, and please, present your evidence so we can all get on with our day!”

“The man has epileptic seizures!” Shandal stated, with a show of aggression. “He openly admitted to this himself, which would suggest to me, that deep down, he is still sane enough to realize that he is in need of help!” 

“He is under my care,” David assured the other doctor. “I am well aware of his condition, and I am treating him for it.”

“But it is an affliction of the mind that is highly contagious!” Shandal countered. “Patients begin to exhibit the very traits that Mr. Heyes has already shown here this morning. What would clinch it all in my mind is if Mr. Heyes has also shown suicidal tendencies. That is also a clear indication of...” Shandal trailed off as he noted the uncomfortable atmosphere his statement had created. “Has Mr. Heyes had suicidal thoughts? Has he actually attempted to...?”

“I hardly think that is relevant,” Steven countered, and he was instantly reminded of his own suggestion that Hannibal be removed from the prison and sent to an asylum due to his depression and suicidal thoughts. Jed's instant refusal of that proposal had taken the lawyer by surprise at the time, but not anymore.

“Ah,” Shandal nodded. “I take that to mean that he has.”

“As Mr. Heyes has already pointed out,” Steven continued. “Situations and environments often play a key role in a person's mental health. His time in prison was not easy for him, and extenuating circumstances made it even more difficult. It was later discovered that the Warden at the prison had his own agenda as well as a personal vendetta against the Heyes family. Warden Mitchell, with the assistance of his senior guard did everything they thought they could get away with, to break Mr. Heyes' mind and spirit. The fact that they very nearly succeeded, and yet failed in the long run attests to Mr. Heyes' strength of character rather than an indication of mental illness. Even under normal circumstances, instances of suicidal tendencies in prisons are not unusual but are more likely caused by the feelings of hopelessness many of the inmates are forced to endure while incarcerated, rather than proof of a contagion or demonic possession.”

“That is only your opinion,” Shandal countered. “It is not mine.”

David sighed. “Have you read the writings of Dr. John Hughlings Jackson?”* he asked.

“I have never even heard of him,” Shandal stated, as he puffed himself up with self-righteous pride. Apparently he felt that any doctor whom he had not heard of, wasn't worth the time it would take to research his works.

David raised an enquiring brow at Benson, who actually straightened up and gave his collar a tug before answering.

“Of course I have heard of him,” he admitted. “Some quack doctor in Britain who seems to think he has the answers to everything. I understand that he is an atheist.”

David ignored the last comment, though he wondered why Benson would think it relevant. Surely, this doctor didn't hold with the view that epilepsy was caused by demonic possession? Being agnostic, Dr. Jackson had dismissed that theory out of hand, and hadn't even mentioned the possibility in any of the writings David had read. He brought his satchel up onto his lap, and opening the flap, pulled out three different, rather thick, transcripts.

“Well,” David continued, as he pushed the documents towards his fellow medical men. “Mr. Jackson is indeed an Englishman, and he can be accredited with establishing a highly specialized field of medicine in neurology. He has been studying afflictions of the brain such as Epilepsy and Aphasia for at least thirty years now.”

“Aphasia?” Nugent queried. “What is that?”

“It's a condition, caused by stroke or other injury to the brain,” David explained. “The afflicted person loses the ability to speak. Patients can recover from Aphasia, with time and a lot of work. But Epilepsy is proving to be a harder condition to treat. Dr. Jackson has been able to determine that there are different compartments inside the brain, and the symptoms the patient displays will depend upon which section of the brain has been damaged. But it is caused by injury to the brain, Dr. Shandal, not a bacterium. And it is not contagious!” then added a mumbled, “and it certainly isn't caused by demons.”

“I'm not suggesting that it is,” Benson explained. “Simply pointing out that there are many excellent Christian doctors and theologians who do hold demonic possession as a possible theory. ”

“I don't agree,” David responded. “There have been no scientific studies to support that view.”

“Perhaps not,” Shandal conceded. “but it is still a dangerous contagion. I know of more than one incident where someone with this disease has worsened dramatically once they were hospitalized...”

“We have already been over this!” David snapped. “And I believe that Mr. Heyes himself has shot that line of logic full of holes.”

“...but experienced some success with a Priest conducting...”

“Do you have documentation?” Steven asked, before the proceedings could degrade into theological arguments and pointless snarking. “You keep insisting that studies done in institutions prove that epilepsy is contagious and a danger to everyone. Let's see your proof. Do you have anything official, from doctors studying these ailments, that can support your opinions?”

“I'm sure I can find some,” Shandal responded. “I didn't see the need to bring any with me today, as I assumed that I would have full cooperation. It amazes me that you are all refusing to see what is right under your noses.”

“Finding documented proof should not prove to be difficult,” David informed them, feeling the need to put this 'doctor' in his proper place. “But finding proof that supports your view may be another matter. The National Hospital for Diseases of the Nervous System, including Paralysis and Epilepsy” was founded in 1859 in London, and doctors have been treating epilepsy patients there for several decades with no evidence of contagion to the medical staff. Not only that, but Dr. Jackson had this disease right under his nose. In fact, his wife of many years was afflicted with this condition, which is, I'm sure, one of the main reasons for his dedication towards finding ways to understand and therefore be able to treat the disease.”

“Well, there you go,” Benson pointed out. “Like I said, Dr. Jackson is a complete quack and a Godless man to boot! Now we can understand why. Obviously he contracted the disease from his wife, and his research became more and more outlandish as time went on.”

David sighed, finding Benson becoming more of a bore than Shandal was being. “He has spent his entire life in the study of neurology, and he has contributed more than anyone else to the study and understanding of these ailments. His research has been accepted at the highest levels of medical and psychological institutions. The papers I have here, were written between 1874 and '76, and are well worth reading. I'm sure you will find them interesting, Dr. Shandal, if you will just take the time.

“Dr. Jackson is quite elderly now, but he continues to study and contribute to this branch of medical science. Hopefully, one day, a cure will be found. Or at least a more effective way of treating the symptoms.”

Steven, Benson and Sheriff Nugent had each discreetly dragged a copy of the available manuscripts towards themselves and were browsing through the contents. Shandal remained stoic and stubborn, and cocked a disapproving brow at his companion. 

“The way Mr. Heyes behaved, I was under the impression that you were already offering him treatments for the seizures!” Shandal pointed out. “Were you simply giving him some kind of placebo, in order to keep him complacent?”

David bristled. “Of course not!” he snapped. “The sedative I've prescribed for my patient should be very effective in not only relaxing the muscles after a seizure has begun, but, if administered quickly enough, can also help to ward off a seizure from even taking hold. People close to the patient, such as family members and friends, can learn to recognize the warning signs and administer the sedative immediately. It's the best we can offer at this time.”

“You should take a look as this, Angus,” Dr. Benson broke in. “There is actually some very compelling research in this paper.”

“This is quite interesting,” Steven agreed as he casually flipped through the pages. “From what I'm seeing here, this research has been very thorough and well documented.” 

“They are certainly worth a read,” David agreed. 

“You should have given these to me on the train,” Steven reprimanded his friend. 

“You had enough of your own reading to get done,” David reminded him. “I wanted you to get at least some rest on the way here, not read more boring documents.”

“Reading boring documents is part of my job,” Steven pointed out. “Besides, these are hardly boring.” 

“If that research is going to be used against me, then I insist that I be given adequate time to read the documents myself,” Shandal pointed out. “I will take these home with me and go over them this evening.”

“Oh,” David instantly regretted his suggestion and Shandal read them. “I had hoped to get this situation cleared up today.”

“Dr. Shandal does have the right to review information that we have submitted,” Steven informed David. “We have offered it to him, so we need to grant him the time to read it over.”

“I'd also like to take a look at the other two,” Nugent put in. “I may not understand all this medical talk, but I need to get an idea of what we're dealing with here.”

“Yes,” David reluctantly agreed. “You're right, of course.”

“Shall we convene back here tomorrow morning?” Steven suggested. “That should give us all a chance to take a look at these manuscripts. I'll drop by later in the day and perhaps we can switch copies.”

“Fine by me,” Nugent said.

All eyes turned to Shandal.

“Yes,” he agreed, as he picked up the manuscript in front of him. “I'll come by later as well. I would appreciate meeting up here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, if you don't mind. I have my rounds to tend to.”

“Fine,” Steven accepted that. 

“Goodnight, gentlemen,” Shandal grumbled, as he collected up his paperwork and headed for the door.

Benson also offered his farewell and followed his friend. David watched them go with some trepidation. If Benson truly believed that demonic possession was a cause of Epilepsy, then this could turn into a real battle.

“I'll go get Mr. Heyes,” Nugent announced as he also headed for the door, but the back one, instead of the front. “I'll leave it to you fellas to tell him he has to spend another night here with me.”

Xxx

“What?” Heyes snarked. “Another night in this place?”

“We're close to getting this settled, Hannibal,” Steven assure him. “Try to relax.”

“Everybody keeps telling me to relax!” Heyes complained. “You try spending a week in this place. No offence, Sheriff, but I'd rather be spending time with my wife, than with you. You know what I mean?”

Nugent snorted. “Yeah, I know. But you'll be out of here tomorrow. And you'll be just in time to catch the next stage down to Santa Marta. Almost like you planned it.”

Heyes rolled his eyes. He and Miranda exchanged disappointed looks. Both had become mildly aroused with their backyard foreplay and had been looking forward to building on that sentiment as soon as they'd be able to get to the hotel room. Now it looked as though it was going to take a little longer.

“If you folks will excuse us,” Steven said. “I need to confer with my client, in private.”

“Oh.” Miranda was taken aback. “I thought I'd stay with Hannibal this evening. If we can't have supper together at the hotel, then the least I can do is have it here with him.”

“You can still do that,” Steven assured her. “I shouldn't be more than half an hour. Perhaps you can go over and order something now, and bring it back with you.”

“Oh,” Miranda sounded disappointed. Hannibal didn't look too happy about it either. “Can't I simply stay here? The deputy usually brings us whatever is on special. I mean, what do you need to discuss that I can't be a party to?”

“It's nothing like that,” Steven assured her. “Simply a lawyer wanting to discuss the situation with his client. It won't take long, but I do want privacy.”

“It's alright,” Heyes assured his wife. “Come back afterwards. We'll have supper together then.”

“Actually, I would like a word with Sheriff Nugent,” David put in, sensing that distracting Nugent from Steven's discussion with Heyes would be to the lawyer's advantage. “And I would prefer that you join us, Miranda. Why don't we retire to our respective corners, and when we're done, we can decide what to do about supper.”

“That's fine by me,” Nugent agreed. “If you two will return to Mr. Heyes' cell, the rest of us can stay right here. Is that private enough for you, Mr. Granger?”

“Yes, Sheriff. That'll do. Thank you.”

Steven and Heyes headed back to the cell, with Steven toting one of the chairs with him. Heyes sat down on his cot, and Steven settled in front of him, giving him a slightly reprimanding look as he did so. 

“Yes, I know,” Heyes grumbled. “I'm sorry, alright? I don't suffer fools easily, and when that fool has power over my life, I find it hard to stay quiet.”

“I understand your frustration,” Steven assured him. “But you don't help your case by behaving that way. Just the opposite, in fact.”

Heyes sighed, but made no more comment.

“Alright,” Steven accepted the apology. “But tomorrow, please, just keep your mouth shut.”

Heyes grinned. “I'll try.”

“Good.” Steven leaned in closer, and brought his voice down to a whisper. “I wanted to discuss with you my take on how this situation is likely to play out. I wanted it in private simply because Sheriff Nugent is too close to the other party. I know he has shown support of you in this case, but I'm not sure how much he's willing to ignore protocol.”

“Ignore protocol?” Heyes asked. “What do you mean?”

“This is hardly a legitimate hearing,” Steven pointed out. “Nugent is no fool, so he must realize that we are not actually following standard procedures here. Still, I don't want to be giving him any ideas.”

“You mean even something like this needs to follow certain guidelines?” Heyes asked. “I thought it was just a simple matter of you and David telling that idiot to shove off.”

Steven smiled. “Basically, that is what we're doing,” he admitted. “but Shandal has every right to insist that this situation be taken to a higher level. He could make it drag out for months, while he gathered evidence against us, and set up an official hearing date.”

“You mean he actually has a leg to stand on here?” Heyes didn't like the sound of this. His memories of that long wait in jail for his trial date coming back to haunt him. “I don't want to go through that again.”

“No, none of us do,” Steven agreed. “I'm amazed that Shandal has not sought legal council in this matter. A lawyer would have told him his rights and would have helped to gather evidence to support his stand. I agree with you, that the man is a fool, and an arrogant fool at that. Unfortunately, they are often the most dangerous.”

“So you think that Nugent might suggest to Shandal to get a lawyer?” Heyes asked. “Wouldn't he already have done that, if he was going to?”

“I don't understand why he hasn't,” Steven admitted. “Is it because he's willing to let things slide in this case, in order to get you on your way, or does he not realize how this matter should be handled? I don't want to take any chances by mentioning this situation to him, thereby making him obligated to pass the suggestion on to Shandal. I see no reason at all to help our opposition.”

“You got that right,” Heyes agreed. “Benson seems to be a sharper whip than his buddy though. Let's hope he doesn't start getting ideas.”

“Hmm,” Steven nodded. “I have a feeling that Benson is slowly being persuaded to our point of view. Once he has time to read over one of those manuscripts, he may just talk Shandal out of pursuing this whole matter.”

“What manuscripts?” Heyes asked.

“Oh,” Steven responded. “David brought some research papers that completely support our view. Benson seemed to take an interest. It could be enough to persuade him.”

“Ahh,” Heyes nodded then added dubiously, “Maybe. Or he could go the other way and realize that they need some heavy artillery themselves if they want to win their case.”

“Yes,” Steven concurred. “Which is why I wanted to have this conversation with you in private. The less people who know about it, the better. Even Miranda might inadvertently give it away if she becomes worried, or frustrated.”

“Miranda's no fool,” Heyes was suddenly defensive. “She's not one to let things slip.”

“I know,” Steven assured his client. “I meant no disrespect, simply that the fewer people who know about this, the less chance there is for a slip-up. I'm not even going to discuss this with David, for that very reason.”

“Then why are you telling me?”

“Because you have the right to know where we stand on this,” Steven explained. “And I'm trusting you to remain discreet. You're a professional con man, Hannibal. You put your mind to it, you can play the game.”

Heyes grinned with the compliment. “Yeah.”

“So,” Steven continued. “When we meet up again tomorrow morning, just remember; play the game. Don't allow your emotions to control the situation. Back off of it. If Shandal returns tomorrow without legal council, and without official evidence to back up his position, then we have him. If he does try to strong-arm us, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve. I hardly came here unprepared. But please Hannibal, just keep your mouth shut.” Then he smiled at the unlikelihood of that happening and added, “Or at least your temper in check.”

Heyes nodded. “I promise.”

Xxx

“What's on your mind, Dr. Gibson?” Nugent asked, once the three of them had the office area to themselves.

“What do you remember about the seizure?” David answered him. “Do you recall what time it was, what the first indicators were, how long it lasted? Anything like that?”

Nugent sat back in his chair and contemplated the enquiry, and then shook his head.

“Sorry Doc, I don't remember much of the details,” he told him. “I was asleep when it started, and it was him thrashing around that woke me up. It was after midnight and pretty quiet. That's unusual in itself, because this town can get awfully rowdy once the sun goes down. I don't know how long it lasted for. Seemed like ages, but now that I think back, it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes. Why?”

“Well, for one thing, Dr. Jackson describes different types of seizures, which indicate that different areas of the brain are being affected. The grey matter apparently shifts, and different chemical and electrical impulses cause different parts of the body to go into spasms.” David explained. “Where the seizures begin, could tell us what type of Epilepsy Hannibal has. It might give us a better understanding of how to predict an episode, and perhaps, in the future, how to treat it.”

Nugent sent David a blank look.

“Grey matter?” he asked.

David flashed a smile.

“Never mind, Sheriff,” he assured him. “It doesn't matter if you don't understand the science of it. Perhaps if you take the time to read through that manuscript, it might give you a better idea. I do have some of Dr. Jackson's later works with me, but I felt that the ones I presented here today, best illustrate the points I was trying to make.

“Hmm,” Nugent nodded as he flipped through the papers in front of him. “Looks like an interesting read.”

“Yes.” David agreed, surprised that the lawman was actually showing some interest in the complex study. “I was also hoping you could give Mrs. Heyes here some idea of what to look for, when a seizure is imminent. Are you sure there is nothing you can remember about the episode?”

“That certainly would be helpful to me,” Miranda agreed. “I have yet to witness one, and to be perfectly honest, I have no idea how I'll handle it, when I do.”

“You seem like a capable woman to me, Mrs. Heyes,” Nugent assured her. “The way I see it, the most you can do, is try to prevent him from hurting himself. The best thing about this seizure, was that it was over quickly.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“But you don't remember how it started?” David asked again. “Please take a moment to think about it. Any information at all, anything you recall could be helpful.”

Nugent took a deep breathe as he settled back in his chair to contemplate. “Like I said Doc, I was asleep when it started. From what I saw, it seemed to start in the extremities, his arm and leg, and just on the one side. At first I thought he was simply having a bad dream, but then it began to escalate, and took over that whole side of his body, from his feet to his head. That's when I got concerned that he might really hurt himself.” Nugent described. “I have to admit, it was frightening. If I were a superstitious man, I could easily have thought that he'd been possessed. I've never seen anything like it. All I can say is that it did escalate until it reached a certain level and then it ended, quickly. Almost like someone blowing out a candle. How quickly or gradually it started in the first place, I can't tell you.”

“Alright, thank you,” David accepted that. “This information does help.” He reached into his satchel and brought out a small sealed envelope. “I brought a dosage of Laudanum for him tonight. He needs to sleep, and with all this coming to a head now, I doubt he'll be able to without a little help. Be sure he gets it, will you Sheriff?”

“I'll be happy to,” Nugent agreed. “It'll be nice to get a decent night's sleep for once.”

“I'll stay with him for as long as I can,” Miranda assured her cousin-in-law and sent a slightly reprimanding look over to the sheriff.

Nugent chuckled.

“I know,” he stated. “You'd like to spend the whole night with him. I'm afraid that would really go against policy. You can stay until 10:00 pm, same as usual.”

“Surely, after what has happened, you could stretch the rules a little bit,” Miranda hopefully suggested. “My being here with him would certainly help keep him more relaxed, and he'll sleep better.”

“I'm sure he'll sleep fine with the Laudanum,” Nugent countered. “It's just for one more night. I can't have you staying here at the jail, ma'am.”

Miranda sighed, and was about to argue the point, when David stopped her. 

“The sheriff is right,” he told her. “The man has his job to do, and from what I can tell, he has been very accommodating. I can give you a small dose of Laudanum as well, Miranda. I'm sure both of you are quite stressed over this whole situation.”

Miranda frowned but didn't answer. David took that as an affirmative to his observation.

Xxx

“There was no need for you to come and walk me back to the hotel,” Miranda told David. “The deputy usually does this.”

The couple walked arm in arm along the boardwalk. Across the street from them, the saloon was up to full swing, with tinny piano music and loud conversation, mingled with the occasional guffaw, spreading out onto the lantern lit street.. The bat wing doors banged open as a couple of the patrons stumbled out, their loud voices and raucous laughter making their inebriated state very apparent. 

David sent them a frown, and tightening his embrace of Miranda's arm, he hurried them along, past the establishment. Fortunately the pair of liquor partakers stumbled off in the other direction.

“I know,” David finally responded. “But I wanted to make sure you were doing alright this evening.” Miranda was silent, walking beside her cousin, but with her thoughts still back at the jailhouse. “Well?”

“Hmm?” Miranda enquired.

“Are you alright?” David repeated.

“Oh.” Miranda sighed deeply. “Not really. I'm putting on a brave face for Hannibal, although I don't think I'm fooling him. I'm scared to death, David. What if...?”

David gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I know,” he said. “Steven is in his lawyer persona now and is keeping his strategy close. But I know he has one. He thinks I thought he was resting on the train ride down here, but I know his mind was working behind those closed eyes. He's prepared, Miranda. Trust him, he knows what he's doing.”

“I know he does,” Miranda agreed. “But there is still that chance things won't go in our favour.”

“I presented the medical evidence to disprove Shandal's accusation,” David pointed out. “He came to the table with nothing but his outdated opinion.” He frowned, considering their second opponent. “Dr. Benson appears to be unsure of his footing at this point. I noticed that he was paying close attention to that manuscript. He is an odd one to place. He's extremely intelligent but his religious views give him a different perspective than mine. We'll keep our eye on him. And yet, the thing about spiritual intervention is that you can't really prove it, and in this situation, proof is what's going to count.”

“You're right, of course,” Randa agreed. “but I'm still worried. Oh, I'll be so glad when we can leave this town behind us. Now more than ever, I'm looking forward to seeing Santa Marta.”

“I can't blame you for that,” David admitted with a smile. “Come up to my room, and I'll give you that small dose of Laudanum. You'll see; tomorrow will be a better day.”

Miranda chuckled, already feeling a little bit better. “Alright.”

Walking into the lobby of the hotel, both David and Miranda smiled an acknowledgement to the sleepy clerk, who was sitting behind the check-in counter, reading a book. He nodded back and then frowned as the couple walked past him and carried on up the stairs to the rooms.

He wasn't sure he liked the look of that. He was very familiar with Mrs. Heyes by this time, and the gentleman she was with was definitely not her husband. Indeed, he had only just checked in that day. He'd used the title 'Doctor' with his name, but anybody could do that—it didn't mean he actually was a doctor. Maybe he was some con man, some slick womanizer who recognized a vulnerable female and was taking advantage of her.

The clerk chewed his lip. Should he do anything about this? He knew the hotel owner didn't put up with this kind of shenanigans in his establishment. There was the bawdy house in town for men who were after that type of companionship. Still, he didn't feel inclined to get involved. In fact, that 'doctor' had checked in with another man, and the clerk didn't have the courage to risk coming up against the both of them.

He'd keep his ears open for any sounds of a commotion. Of course, that would be the best way to handle this. Why make a fuss over something that may not even be happening. Perhaps the doctor was a friend of Mrs. Heyes'. It didn't look like they were trying to hide anything, and she certainly didn't seem concerned for her own safety.

Yes, they were probably friends, he concluded to his satisfaction. He knew that Mrs. Heyes was going through a difficult time, what with her husband being detained and all. Not that that was a surprise. What did they expect? Hannibal Heyes arriving in town, bold as brass, and expecting that no one would notice. Serves him right. But Mrs. Heyes was a personable young woman, and despite his opinion of her husband, he had developed a liking for her, during her stay at the hotel. 

But what was she doing, going upstairs, arm in arm with another man? The clerk sighed and shook his head. Really, it was none of his business. He really shouldn't be surprised that the wife of a known outlaw would be somewhat loose and amoral. They try to hide their spots, these people. Try to come across as solid, upright citizens and lure honest people into trusting them. But he knew better. He wasn't going to fall for that, no sir!

Still, Mrs. Heyes was very pretty and had always been friendly and polite to him. He had considered asking her out for lunch himself, just to offer comfort and companionship in a strange town, of course. But he'd never really found the right words, and now, apparently, she had found solace in the arms of another. He gave a slightly regretful sigh and went back to his book. If he heard anything suspicious coming from upstairs, he'd simply get the law to look into it. That was their job after all, that's what they got paid for.

Xxx

“Sheriff?”

“Hmm.”

“Are you finished reading that manuscript?”

“I think I've gotten as much out of it as I'm going to,” Nugent commented. “It has made some very interesting conclusions, but if I read much more of it, my head is going to explode.”

Heyes smiled. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?”

Nugent glanced over at him. “Why aren't you asleep yet?”

Heyes shrugged. “Because I'm not.”

“Did you take that Laudanum, like your doctor suggested?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to look over the manuscript.”

“Mr. Heyes, take your medicine and go to sleep. Tomorrow could be a very busy day for you.”

“Why won't you let me read the manuscript?”

“Why do you want to?”

“Well, it is kind of about me, isn't it? Don't I have the right to know what it is I'm dealing with?”

Nugent sighed. “I'm not so sure that's a good idea.”

Heyes frowned. “Why not?”

“Why don't you just forget about it, and get some sleep?”

Heyes got up from his cot and began to pace the cell.

“Why don't you want me to read it?”

“You probably wouldn't even understand it. It's full of all that medical gobbledygook.”

“I took a course in medical gobbledygoop while I was in prison.”

Nugent sighed again. He was getting tired and wanted to get some sleep himself.

“It's almost time for lights out,” he said. “You won't be able to read in the dark.”

“You always have that small lantern going. I'll read by that.”

“Heyes, I'm tired. I want to get some sleep. You should too.”

“Well, Deputy Charlie will be stopping in soon, after his nightly rounds. Why don't you go home and sleep there?”

“You know darn well I don't sleep at home when there's a prisoner here. Charlie walks the town until the saloons and bawdy houses shut down, and I man the jailhouse. Take your Laudanum and go to sleep.”

“I'd sleep a lot better, if I could satisfy my curiosity about what that British doctor had to say. Come on, Sheriff. It's my disease, I have a right to know.”

“Oh for goodness sakes! You're worse than a woman. How does your wife put up with you?”

Heyes grinned, his dimples dancing in the lamp light. “She gives me what I want.”

“Yeah! I doubt she is that complacent.” Heyes' grin deepened, and he turned his charm on full force.

“Fine!” Nugent snapped as he swung his legs off his desk and clumped his feet down to the floor. “Here. Read the damn thing. Then take your meds and go to sleep. I don't want you up and pacing all night.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Heyes said to him as he took the offered papers. “I really do appreciate this.”

“Yeah, well, just be quiet about it,” Nugent grumbled as he headed back to his desk. “I want to get some shut eye before Charlie gets back here.”

“Sure, sure,” Heyes agreed as he settled into his pillow and got comfortable. “I won't make a sound.”

Xxx

Nugent jerked himself awake, suddenly aware of movement in the cell next to him. He hated to admit it, but a tingle of fear trickled down his spine as memories of the previous night's disturbance accosted his sleepy consciousness. His apprehension diminished when a quick glance into Heyes' cell revealed the shadowy figure of the man pacing the parameter of his confinement. 

Nugent looked back up at the faded ceiling above him and sighed deeply. Swinging his legs off the cot and sitting up, he gave his face a full handed massage and then vigorously rubbed his sleepy eyes. He sent a frustrated look over to his guest, as that man continued to pace and quietly mutter to himself.

“Goddammit, Heyes!” Nugent cursed. “Didn't you take that Laudanum your doc gave you?”

Heyes jumped and turned to face the sheriff.

“Oh, Sheriff. You're awake.”

Nugent sighed again and shook his head in bewildered defeat.

“I would have sworn you took that sedative,” he grumbled.

“Well, I did,” Heyes assured him. “You saw me take it.”

“I thought I saw you take it!” Nugent corrected him. “Obviously you didn't.”

“Oh no, sheriff,” Heyes insisted. “You saw right. I took it.”

“THEN WHY THE HELL ARN'T YOU ASLEEP?!”

Heyes gave an innocent shrug.

“I donno,” he admitted. “Too much on my mind, I guess.”

“Christ!” Nugent cursed again. “I knew I shouldn't have given you that document. Now you're all wound up about it.” He looked out the cell window and saw that it was still dark night outside. He sighed and rubbed his eyes again. “What the hell time is it?” he grumbled.

“About 3:00 am.”

“It was a rhetorical question,” Nugent retorted. 

Heyes shrugged again. “Rhetorical or not, it's still about 3:00 am.”

“You don't have a time piece on you, Heyes. How could you possibly know that?”

“I just do,” Heyes answered. “I always could. Even in prison, with no windows, I always seemed to know what time it was.”

“Hmm,” Nugent grumbled again as he stood up and headed out of his cell.

“Where are you going?” Heyes asked.

Nugent stopped and sent him a pointed stare.

“Are you intending to go back to sleep any time soon?” he asked.

“I can't sleep now,” Heyes protested. “I have too much on my mind.”

“That's what I thought,” Nugent responded. “I figured I may as well heat up the coffee. Damn,” he continued as he headed towards the stove. “I'll sure be glad when you get on your way. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since you got here. What the hell do you find so interesting to talk about in the middle of the night? I swear, I've never known a man who can go on and on and on the way you can. I heard tell that you had a silver tongue, but this is ridiculous...”

Nugent's voice faded as he became occupied with lighting the stove and setting the already prepared pot on the warm stove. It wouldn't take long for it to heat up. 

Heyes felt some contrition, but his mind was spinning with the information he had gleaned from the manuscript, and he had found it impossible to settle into sleep. He felt frustrated, and scared, and angry too, that David had not told him everything. How could a man sleep with all that running circles around inside his head?

He sighed heavily, and thumped down onto the cot. Nugent glanced over and felt some sympathy for the man's agitation. He set the coffee pot on the stove to heat, and coming over to the cell, he leaned against the bars.

“I think I have a pretty good idea, what's got you all wound up,” the sheriff told him. “I take it your doctor never told you that part of it.”

Heyes' lips tightened in irritation, not so much at the sheriff asking him about it, but the fact that David hadn't told him. He suddenly slapped his hands down on the cot, and springing to his feet, began to pace again.

“Why didn't he tell me that?” he demanded to know.

Nugent shrugged. “That is kind of hard news to give to somebody,” he commented. “Maybe he just felt you were better off not knowing.”

“There appears to be a lot of things about this, that David feels I'm better off not knowing!” Heyes snarked. “What the hell is he thinking?”

“You can ask him that yourself, in about four hours,” Nugent suggested. “In the meantime, I suggest that you at least TRY to relax.”

The aroma of heating coffee made its way to the cell, and Nugent went to answer the call. He poured out two cups of the steaming liquid, then sending a serendipitous glance over at his guest, he opened the upper cupboard, and taking the whiskey bottle down from the shelf, poured a healthy amount into both cups.

Returning to the cell, he handed Heyes one of the cups through the bars.

“Here, drink this.”

Heyes accepted it, and took a healthy swig before considering the contents. He got a whiff of the aroma around the same time as the liquor burned its way down his throat. His brows went up in surprise, and he sent the sheriff a questioning look.

“Maybe it'll help you to calm down, and then both of us can get some more sleep,” Nugent explained.

Xxx

“Why didn't you tell me?” Hannibal asked David, point blank. “Don't you think my wife and I have the right to know that?”

The four friends sat in various locations around the inside of the cell. Empty plates and dirty utensils littered the floor of the confined space, while the occupants finished up their final cups of coffee. Heyes had found this topic difficult to bring up, as he knew it would be upsetting to his wife, so he had allowed lighter conversation to prevail over the morning meal. Now that it was done, Heyes summoned the courage, and presenting the manuscript and pointing at the offending passage, he now awaited the answer to his question.

David had the good grace to look repentant.

“I didn't know,” he admitted. “Remember, Hannibal, I knew very little about this condition before your situation prompted me to do some research. I gave you most of the information, as I got it. I was able to get in touch with Dr. Jackson's office some months ago, but it took time for copies of his writings to get to me.”

“What?” Miranda asked, more concern etching lines into the constant worry that had settled onto her this morning. “What haven't you told us, David?”

Heyes and David exchanged glances, but Heyes found the information sticking in his throat. With all the issues Miranda had had to deal with since their marriage, he couldn't bring himself to add one more piece to it.

David took over.

“Dr. Jackson's wife suffered from epilepsy,” he explained. “I expect that was one of the main reasons he began to research this particular ailment so vigorously. Unfortunately, she passed away in 1876, apparently from convulsions brought on by a severe epileptic seizure.”

Miranda gasped, and her complexion paled, but her eyes went darker as they bore into her cousin.

“You mean Hannibal could die from this!?” she demanded to know. “And you didn't tell us!”

“I already explained that I didn't know about this until recently,” David reminded her. “Believe me, I was as surprised as you. I brought more information with me to go over on the train ride down here, and what I learned from that, makes it very apparent that it is highly unusual for someone to die from a seizure. If it does happen, it's more often caused by secondary means, such as choking, or drowning, or falling from a horse. That is why it's so important for both of you, and especially you, Hannibal, to learn what the triggers are, and thereby avoid them. You also need to learn what the indicators are, so you'll know in advance that one is coming.”

“But it is possible that I could have a seizure and not wake up from it?” Heyes asked, then cleared his throat as a small lump of fear tightened it up on him.

David sighed. “It's possible,” he admitted. “But extremely unlikely. From what Sheriff Nugent described of the seizure he witnessed, they would have to be a lot worse than what you're getting now for there to be even the remotest chance of a fatal attack. Just be aware of what you're doing.”

“What do you mean?” Heyes asked.

“Well,” David considered. “for one thing, you really shouldn't bathe alone.”

Miranda, despite the seriousness of the conversation, started to giggle. Heyes cocked a brow at the doctor, and then cast a glance over to meet his wife's eyes. They both smiled coyly.

“I sure don't mind sharing a tub with my wife,” Heyes conceded. “but as for the Kid, he's just going to have to wait his own turn.”

David groaned inwardly. “You know what I mean,” he insisted. “Someone else should be in the house, and aware of what you're doing. If you're on the road, and by yourself, then go to the bathhouse instead of having a tub sent up to the room. It's little things like this that could end up saving your life in the long run.”

“Next you're going to be telling me that I can't take Karma out for a ride by myself, or eat lunch in my own kitchen on my own, or go to the privy alone,” Heyes griped. “That's why it's called a privy, you know—it's suppose to be done in private. And what about making love to my wife? I suppose you're going to say—oh no, wait. If I'm making love to her, then she'd already be there, so...”

David groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

“I'm going to regret bringing this whole thing up,” he grumbled.

“No,” Heyes pointedly contradicted. “I'm working on making you regret not bringing it up at all.”

David's eyes snapped up, expecting an argument, but were instead met by a dazzling smile and deep dimples. The doctor was instantly disarmed.

“Alright!” he conceded. “I stand thoroughly chastised. But I still stand by my decision on that. I was going to inform you of this as soon as we were through the current crisis. Remember, I told you that I suspected they could be triggered by increased levels of stress and anxiety brought on by confinement and the unfortunate memories, both conscious and subconscious, that arise because of it.  
“Try to see this from my point of view, Hannibal and Miranda. Please. You're already under a great deal of strain. I didn't want to risk inducing another seizure, especially so soon after your previous one. Once things had calmed down here, and you were released, I was going to tell you.”

“So, you don't think I could have handled it?” Heyes asked, feeling insulted.

“In your current situation, no, I don't,” David told him. “And looking at you now, I'd say I have been proven right.”

“What do you mean?” Heyes demanded. “I found out about this last night, I haven't had another seizure.”

“But you took the Laudanum,” David pointed out. “It was already helping you to relax, yet I venture to guess that it didn't help you to sleep. I'd say you were up and pacing half the night. If not all of it.”

Heyes' line of attack bottomed out, and his stance deflated.

“Well, not all of it.”

A snort came from the vicinity of the front desk.

“Sure as hell felt like all of it!” Nugent piped in, then regretted his sharpness. “Sorry ma'am. I don't normally cuss and certainly not around a lady. I'm just a little on the other side of too tired, after having this man in my jail for close on to a week now. No wonder the law could never keep hold of him. He probably wore them all out with his constant complaining and endless pacing. My hat is off to you, Mrs. Heyes. I really don't know how you do it.”

Steven laughed, and even David couldn't help a smile cross his lips. Heyes rolled his eyes, but the compliment did wonders to lift Randa's spirits.

“We manage, Sheriff,” she told him. “I have my own ways of calming him down.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Nugent agreed. “I'm sure you do.”

“Well!” Steven stood up, instantly garnering everyone's attention. “considering the time, I suggest we prepare for our final encounter here.”

“Oh dear, yes!” Miranda agreed and quickly began collecting up dishes. “I'll get them cleared up while you gentlemen get organized.”

“Just leave them on the tray there, ma'am,” Nugent told her. “Charlie will take them over to the cafe later.”

“Oh yes, of course.”

Nugent sent a sceptical look over to the prisoner.

“Do I need to remove you to the outside cell, Mr. Heyes?” he asked dubiously.

“No, Sheriff,” Heyes assured him. “I'll behave myself.”

Xxx

Nugent made sure there were enough chairs to go around this time, so when Drs. Shandal and Benson arrived for the morning meeting, everyone could be accommodated. Coffee was offered, but refused, as everyone had already filled up on the stimulant before gathering at the jailhouse.

Heyes sent Steven a concerned look as Shandal plunked a heavy book down onto the desk top, but Steven returned a subtle negative gesture to indicate that it was nothing for him to worry about. Indeed, as Shandal opened the book, and began rifling through to find his marked page, dust drifted up from the cover, and a musty smell of disuse permeated the area.

“So, gentlemen,” Nugent greeted the assembly as everyone got seated. “I take it we are ready to proceed. OH, ma'am!” the sheriff nodded to Miranda. “Sorry, didn't mean to exclude you.”

Miranda smiled, trying not to let her nervousness show.

“That's alright, Sheriff,” she assured him. “I'm quite used to being outnumber in these affairs.” Her smile broadened, and a wicked glint came to her eye that could have rivalled her husband's. “Sometimes, being a fly on the wall is the most advantageous position.”

Nugent chuckled. He found that he was liking Mrs. Heyes more and more, as these proceedings continued.

“You are right about that,” he agreed. “Okay. Let's get started here. Dr. Shandal, did you have time to look over Dr. Jackson's research?”

“I most certainly did,” Shandal stated. “An interesting read, but hardly conclusive.”

“Do you have evidence to suggest that Dr. Jackson's research is incorrect?” Steven asked before David could respond.

“I most certainly do,” Shandal responded, as he continued to flip through the pages of the text book.

“I believe it is on page 357, Angus,” Benson quietly informed him. “The chapter on infectious diseases.”

Heyes groaned in frustration, but Steven sent him a warning look that instantly shut him up. He smiled winningly and sat back in his chair. Miranda took his hand, and held it between hers, and he settled even more.

“Ah yes, quite right,” Shandal agreed, and proceeded to the suggested chapter. “Here it is.” He ran his finger down the page until he came to the desired text, and smiled in triumph as he began to read. “'Though once considered by many to be a sign of demonic possession, current medical opinion tends to support the evidence showing that seizures of the body are more likely caused by an affliction of the brain. The affliction will worsen if not treated, causing the convulsions to become more violent and of longer duration as time goes on. Damage to the brain will eventually result in aggressive behavior on the part of the patient, driving him to insanity and ultimately, to his death.

“To date there is no known treatment or cure for this affliction. It is considered to be extremely contagious and the afflicted person must be kept contained and isolated in order to prevent serious injury to himself and to others. 

“People who have been in close proximity to the patient, such as friends and family, and especially spouses should also be examined for any signs of aggression or unreasonable behavior.'

“There you have it gentlemen,” Shandal concluded with a smug look over to Miranda. “Clear as day, in black and white, in a well respected medical journal. What do you say to that?”

“May I see the book, please?” Steven requested.

“Certainly,” Shandal agreed, and he pivoted the book around and pushed it over to the lawyer. A helpful finger indicated the desired passage.

As Steven began to scrutinize the text and the book itself, Heyes took the opportunity to feel out his opposition. He noted that though Shandal was looking pleased with himself, Benson was remaining quiet and appeared uncomfortable with the way things were going. Smug, and sure of himself when he first arrived in town, Dr. Benson now seemed to realize that they could be fighting a losing battle.

Heyes turned his attention back to his main adversary. The two men locked eyes, and Heyes smiled.

“You don't appear to mind being in my presence, Dr. Shandal,” he observed. “Are you not concerned that you might contract this contagion from me?”

“I'm willing to take that risk for the common good,” Shandal replied. “As any good doctor would do.”

“Oh,” Heyes nodded. “Dedicated man.”

“Of course,” Shandal tried to straighten up with indignation at his integrity being questioned. “Although I can understand your desire to doubt my credentials.” 

“I simply find it interesting that a man who is dedicated to his profession could allow himself to fall so far behind in his own research as to become such a...”

Steven slammed the book shut upon Heyes' next words and sent his client a reprimanding look. Heyes smiled at him through the ensuing puff of dust, but he took the hint and did not finish his statement.

Steven returned his attention to Dr. Shandal.

“Is this the only proof you can offer, Doctor?” he asked.

“I think that it's sufficient,” Shandal answered him. “It states quite clearly that my conclusions are correct.”

“This book was published fifty years ago,” Steven pointed out. “Even Dr. Gibson's evidence, though published in '76, is more current and has been used as the basis for ongoing research. This book is out of date. Now if you can show that this author has done further research and that that research has been substantiated by others in his profession, then it might be worth something. But as it stands it is not enough to refute Dr. Jackson's theories.”

“This is ridiculous!” Shandal blustered, his already dubious features turning ugly with his anger. “The case studies in this book clearly show that the patients become violently aggressive not only towards others, but even towards themselves. It also gives clear evidence that it is a contagious disease and can be passed on from one generation to the next. You've hardly taken any time to read through the material, so how can you say that it is unsubstantiated?”

“Mainly because of when it was written,” Steven responded. “It is archaic, and more recent studies have disproved many of these theories. It simply does not stand up as supportive evidence.”

“I'd say that settles it,” Nugent put in. “The way I'm seeing things here, I don't feel that I have any further reason to detain Mr. Heyes.”

“Oh, finally!” Heyes stated.

“You're making a terrible mistake, Sheriff!” Shandal accused him. “I'm not going to give up that easily. I'll take this to a higher level—I'll take it to the courts.”

“You go right ahead,” Nugent told him. “I can't stop you. But Judge Nichols won't be down this way for another month, and I have no intentions of keeping Mr. Heyes detained for that long. Besides, I've known the judge for many years, and I can tell you quite frankly that he'll take one look at your evidence and throw the case out. You'd be wasting everyone's time and money. I've had enough. As far as I'm concerned, we're done here.”

Shandal blustered to his feet and, with his hands on the desk, leaned into Nugent with what he hoped would be an intimidating manner.

“Sheriff, you can't just let him go! There are certain procedures that need to be followed. I won't allow you to make a mockery of justice!”

Nugent slammed his fist down on the desk, and so close to Shandal's hand that the doctor jumped back in surprise. Nugent came to his feet as well, and his anger caused his already impressive presence to grow and take over the room.

“How dare you tell me what I can and can't do in my town and in MY OWN OFFICE!” he yelled. “You have been a thorn in my side for ages! You've insisted that Mr. Heyes be detained on what is now obviously outdated research and opinions that cannot be substantiated. You've caused these two busy gentlemen to have to drop everything and come down here in order to defend their client and patient against accusations that you cannot prove. Enough of this! Get on with your day, and allow these people to get on with theirs!” 

“We can take this to a higher authority,” Benson interjected while his associate huffed and puffed in an effort to regain his composure. “If we had realized we would be coming up against such an opposition from supposedly educated men, we would have insisted on a legal hearing in the first place.”

“Perhaps you should have,” Steven responded as he too came to his feet. “but you did not. As far as we are concerned, this matter is closed.”

“I'm satisfied with the conclusion,” David agreed, as everyone now rose to their feet. “Are you satisfied, Mr. Heyes?”

“Quite satisfied, Dr. Gibson,” Heyes quipped. “Are you satisfied with this conclusion, Mrs. Heyes?”

Miranda smiled. “Oh yes, Mr. Heyes. It could not have gone better.”

“It seems we're all satisfied,” Nugent announced. “Good day to you all. I have work to do.”

“Fine!” Shandal snarked as he collected up his belongings. “We'll see about this, Sheriff Nugent. This is not over!”

“I'm sure we'll be seeing you in court,” Benson added.

And with that parting comment, the two complainants stomped their way to the door and disappeared into the bright sunshine.

A collaborative sigh of relief settled around the desk as the tension in the office left with the departing doctors.

Heyes gave his wife a hug with meaning, then smiled at the sheriff and shook his hand.

“Thank you, Sheriff Nugent,” he said with a dimple flash. “You made my stay in Yuma a very memorable one.”

Nugent laughed as he returned the hand shake.

“I'm sure, Mr. Heyes,” he agreed. “I don't think either one of us will be forgetting this little adventure any time soon.” 

Heyes raised his brows and nodded in emphatic agreement.

Nugent turned his attention to Miranda, and taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and gave it a gentlemanly kiss.

“Ma'am,” he said to a pair of surprised dark blue eyes. “It was a real pleasure having you in my town.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Miranda responded through a rising blush. “Despite the circumstances, you were an honourable host.”

Heyes raised his brows again, and then grinned at his wife's embarrassment. She wasn't one to blush easily, so obviously the sheriff's compliment pleased her.

“Alright,” Steven said as he also shook the sheriff's hand. “Thank you for contacting us, Sheriff. We appreciate it. If those two do decide to file official charges, they'll have to come to us, and then they'll really have a fight on their hands.”

“I'll be surprised if they do,” Nugent assured him. “Shandal likes to talk, but anything that takes too much organizing, he backs away from. That threat was just posturing on his part. I doubt he'll go through with it.”

“What about Benson?” Heyes asked. “That man could be trouble.”

“You have a point there, Mr. Heyes,” Nugent agreed. “And I don't know him well enough to hazard a guess. Though I expect by the time they get around to organizing anything, you'll be back home. I'm sure you have a number of friends there who will stand up for your character. Not to mention, the local law must see some value in you, or they wouldn't be letting you set down roots.”

“I certainly hope so,” Heyes agreed wholeheartedly. “But in the meantime, I'm not going to worry about it. We have a resort hotel on a nice sandy beach waiting for us, and right now, I am really feeling in need of a vacation.”

“Oh, tell me about it!” Miranda agreed as she leaned into her husband's arm. “We'll wash all this worry away and enjoy ourselves. That is, as long as you're sure Sally is alright.”

“Sally is fine,” David assured her again. “They're all having quite an adventure themselves, so don't either of you worry about her. Go have a good time.”

The couple exchanged smiles, and the light in Heyes' eye wasn't missed by anyone.

“Ah, I'm assuming you folks will be staying in town one more night?” Nugent asked.

“Hmm, what?” Heyes broke his attention away from his wife and looked at the sheriff.

“In town, one more night,” Nugent repeated. “The stage to Santa Marta will be making that run again tomorrow. You might as well get some enjoyment out of Yuma while you're here. Get a chance to actually spend a night at the hotel. It is a very nice hotel.”

“We'll be catching the morning train for home, I expect,” Steven ventured. “It would be nice to have a visit while we're here.”

“Good idea,” David agreed. “I think we could all use the rest of the day to wind down from all this. We've all had a rough week.”

“Oh,” Heyes smiled. “I guess it's settled then. No need to rent a coach if there's one heading down there tomorrow anyways.”

“That would be lovely,” Miranda joined in. “But first, I think I would like to return to the hotel room to freshen up.”

“Yes, me too,” Heyes agreed. “A decent shave, change of clothes. A bath would be nice.”

“Okay,” David said through his grin. “Why don't we meet up at the hotel restaurant for lunch at around 1:00? Have ourselves a little bit of a celebration.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Steven agreed. “1:00 it is.”

“Sheriff, you're welcome to join us,” Heyes offered.

“No, thank you, Mr. Heyes,” Nugent declined. “I think you and your friends can handle that on your own. I'm sure I'll see you again before you leave town in the morning.”

“Alright.”

David took his turn to shake the sheriff's hand.

“Thank you, Sheriff,” he said. “Without your diligence, this whole situation could have gone in a completely different direction. We all appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he responded. “Tell me Doc, you're obviously a well learned man. What are you doing running a practice in a small town like Brookswood? Shouldn't you be back East, doing research in one of those fancy universities? Aren't you kind of wasting your talents here in the West?”

David smiled. “I like the West,” he told the sheriff. “I'm happy where I am, and Denver isn't that far away. That's a growing metropolis and offers its own brand of medical study and research.”

“Well, I suppose,” Nugent shrugged. “It still seems to me that all the serious research goes on back East.”

“But maybe if some of the best doctors stayed here in the West, we might get some good research facilities here,” David countered. “The West is growing Sheriff. There's plenty here to keep an curious mind busy.”

“Yeah well, if you say so,” Nugent commented. “And however you figure it, I'm just glad you were here to help get this matter sorted out. Now, as for you, Mr. Heyes, I sure will be glad to get a decent night's sleep tonight. I'm relieved to say that he is now all yours, Mrs. Heyes.”

Miranda smiled. “No problem, Sheriff. I think I know what to do with him.”

Xxx

A dark ring of wet circled the tub that had been placed strategically in the plush hotel room. Clothing and towels lay scattered on the carpet, and the large soft bed stood dishevelled and abandoned in the background. The couple lying in the now calm water of the bath could have been asleep if it weren't for the smiles of sensual contentment that tugged at their mouths.

Hannibal had settled into the back of the tub, his knees, sticking up out of the water, rested gently against the insides of the confined space. Between them, his wife nestled atop him, her head comfortably pillowed upon the patch of wet hair on his chest. His smile deepened as his hand began to caress her long, wet hair, and she moaned with happiness as she squiggled deeper into his embrace.

“I don't think this is what David had in mind, when he said that you shouldn't bathe alone,” she whispered after releasing a contented sigh.

“I know what he meant,” Hannibal's voice rumbled in his chest. “I like my version better.”

Miranda smiled and nodded agreement as she closed her eyes and a relaxed into the liquid cocoon.

A knock on the door of their room caused both people to jump and exchange a quick glance. Hannibal shrugged his shoulders to Miranda's enquiring eyes.

“Who's there?” he called. 

“It's the bellboy, Mr. Heyes,” came the squeaky response. “Your clothing is ready, sir.”

“Already?” he asked. “I only sent it down, ah...let's see...it's been...”

“Two and a half hours, sir,” came the response through the door.

The couple in the tub exchanged astonished looks.

“Ah, just leave them there,” Heyes instructed the lad.

“Out in the hallway, sir?”

“Yes.”

“I'm not supposed to do that, sir,” came the response. “I need to bring them into your room.”

“I won't tell anybody,” Heyes assured him. “and I'll double your tip.”

A moment of silence followed as the lad calculated his advantage.

“Well, as long as you don't tell anybody.”

“I won't,” Heyes promised. “You have my word.”

“Well, okay.”

“Good lad.”

The couple listened silently for a moment, but when no further discussion was forthcoming, they started to giggle.

“I didn't realize so much time had passed,” Miranda admitted. “We'll have to hurry if we're to meet up with Steven and David.”

“True,” Hannibal agreed, though his heart wasn't really in it. “I don't suppose it would do to have them come knocking at the door.”

“No, it wouldn't,” Miranda agreed as she raised herself up on her hands and stared into her husband's chocolate eyes. “It wouldn't do at all.”

Hannibal grinned as he felt the stirrings begin again. He pulled his wife in closer and kissed her long and deep as his hands moved down to caress her submerged form. The water in the tub began to vibrate, then it escalated into an agitated ripple. Soon, the ripples became waves and the water bounced and splashed over the rim to add to the dampness already soaking into the carpet surrounding the tub.

 

To Be Continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Hughlings_Jackson


	10. Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes and Miranda finally get to enjoy their honeymoon in Santa Marta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex, sex, sex. Well, it's their honeymoon, what did you expect?

YUMA, ARIZONA

The four friends met for breakfast early on that last day in Yuma. They all had conveyances to meet, and nobody wanted to rush their morning meal. Coffees were brought all around, and Heyes took a sip and sat back with closed eyes and a soft smile upon his lips.

“Ahhh, coffee,” he moaned. “This is the best cup I've had in ages.”

Steven smiled, remembering how coffee had given him one of his first real introductions to both Heyes and Jed. The brown liquid still seemed to hold a special magic over both of them. Steven wondered fleetingly what memories that unique aroma brought to his two friends, since it obviously held a special place in their hearts.

“What do you mean?” David asked him. “This is where Deputy Charlie got your coffee with your meals. It's the same brew.”

Heyes opened his eyes and sat forward again.

“Yes, but the location makes all the difference,” he emphasized. “I don't care how good coffee is when you're behind bars, it always tastes better when you're not.”

Miranda smiled and gave her husband a gentle rub on his shoulder.

David nodded agreement.

“Yes, I suppose that makes sense.”

“Oh, there's Sheriff Nugent,” Steven observed. “How do you feel, Hannibal? Shall I invite him over?”

“Sure, why not?” Heyes agreed. “In fact, I'll even buy him breakfast. I owe him that much at least.” 

Steven caught the sheriff's eye and waved him over.

“Gentlemen, and ma'am,” Nugent nodded his greeting. “Enjoying your morning?”

“Just getting started,” Steven told him. “Would you care to join us for breakfast?”

“Oh, well...”

“Please do,” Heyes insisted. “As a small token of my appreciation.”

“Well, if you put it that way,” Nugent pulled out an extra chair and sat down.

The waitress was quick to arrive with another coffee.'

“Good morning, Sheriff,” she greeted him. “The usual?”

“Yes Helen, thank you.” he agreed, then frowned. “I thought Louise was usually on this morning. Is she sick?”

“Something came up suddenly,” the young woman answered. “She asked me to fill in for her.”

“Is she alright?” Miranda asked, feeling concern for the waitress she had become casually acquainted with.

“Oh, I don't think it's anything serious,” Helen assured everyone. “I'm sure she'll be back to work tomorrow.”

“Oh dear,” Miranda complained. “I was wanting to say 'goodbye' to her. She was always very friendly towards me. Oh well.”

“I'll pass that on to her, ma'am,” the waitress offered. “Who should I say it's from?”

“Just tell her Miranda,” Randa informed her. “She'll know.”

“Yes ma'am. My name is Helen,” she informed the table. “Just call if you need anything. But as for right now, have you decided what you would like for breakfast?”

“I think we've all agreed on the special,” David informed her. 

She smiled. “That certainly makes it easy on me,” she joked. “Five specials coming up.”

Xxx

“Do you think Dr. Shandal is going to cause any trouble for you, Sheriff?” Heyes asked over a mouthful of fried ham. “He seemed pretty upset over the outcome.”

“He might try,” Nugent admitted. “Some of his friends might rally around him, and elections are due again in December, but I was already thinking of surrendering the office. So frankly, I don't care what he does.”

“That would be a shame,” Steven commented. “If you can get Hannibal Heyes to like you, you're either crooked as the Snake River, or you're an honest, fair man who does his job well.”

Heyes was all set to be insulted by that comment, until he realized that it was the truth. Then he simply smiled. 

Nugent laughed.

“I certainly hope it's the latter,” he responded. “Wouldn't do for the lawman to be crooked in this town.”

“It is,” Heyes assured him. “Aside from detaining me in the first place, I appreciate everything else you did. It would be a shame if Shandal drove you out of office over this, though.”

“He's not going to get a chance to,” Nugent reiterated. “I doubt I'll even run. I've held this office on and off for quite a few years now. Maybe I'll run for mayor.”

Everyone at the table laughed at that, and the conversation moved on to more casual topics.

“You're looking rested, Sheriff,” Miranda commented. “Did you sleep well last night?”

Nugent sent her a pleasant smile.

“Yes ma'am,” he affirmed. “Best sleep I've had in a week.”

Xxx

“Hmm, we better get going,” Heyes announced after one more swig of coffee. “The coach to Santa Marta leaves in an hour, and we're not packed yet.”

“Oh dear!” Miranda took one more bite of toast and daintily patted her mouth with the napkin. “Yes, we better get ourselves organized. Don't want to miss it again.”

“Now, how in the world do you do that?” Nugent asked. “You did that in the jail the other night, too. How can you know what time it is without even looking at a time piece?”

Heyes shrugged as he and Miranda stood up to leave.

“I donno,” he admitted again. “A sense I've developed, I suppose.” He smiled wickedly. “Probably comes from having to know exactly what time a train was due to pass a particular spot on the route. Ya' gotta know when ta' blow that dynamite. I'd always keep a pocket watch handy in order to make sure the train itself was running on time. Never can trust those schedules.”

“Yes,” Nugent frowned. “I don't think I need to know any more.”

Heyes softened his grin—and held his hand out to the sheriff. Nugent stood up to accept it.

“Goodbye, Mr. Heyes,” he said. “I hope the rest of your journey is an enjoyable one.”

“Thank you. I'm sure it will be.”

“Ma'am,” Nugent took Miranda's hand and kissed it in a most gentlemanly fashion. “It certainly was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, Sheriff. You have been very kind.”

Steven and David stood up to accommodate the lady, and to also give their farewells.

“Hannibal,” Steven said. “Safe journey. Bridget and I will probably be gone by the time you get back home, but I believe there are plans for Christmas.”

“That would not surprise me,” Heyes agreed. “Here, let me give you some money to cover our tab.”

“Don't worry about it,” Steven said, just as Heyes was about to pull out his wallet. “I'll include it in the bill for my services.”

“Ahh!” Heyes grinned. “Well worth it. And I do have my paperwork with me now.”

“Good!” Steven responded. “Make sure it stays with you.”

“We will,” Miranda adamantly assured him. “Won't we, dear?”

“Yes, we will.”

“That goes for your medicine too,” David put in, as he shook Heyes' hand. “Always have it on you, Hannibal. It's important.”

“Yes, David.”

David came around the table and gave Miranda a hug.

“Take care of him,” he whispered in her ear. “And take care of yourself as well.”

Miranda nodded and gave her cousin a kiss on the cheek.

“I will. We'll see you when we get home.”

Hannibal and Miranda departed the cafe just as Deputy Charlie entered and made a beeline for his boss.

“Sheriff,” he announced. “Seems there's a bit of trouble out at the Foresters' place. They's askin' after ya'.”

Nugent sighed. 

“Damn,” he grumbled. “Can't those two brothers ever leave each other alone? I'm surprised one hasn't killed the other one by now.”

Charlie shrugged, not knowing quite how to answer that.

“Never mind,” Nugent assured him. “You good to stay in the office for a couple of more hours?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Good. Gentlemen, it seems I must rush off,” the sheriff informed them. “It was interesting to say the least. And Doctor, thank you for those manuscripts. I think I'll enjoy spending a bit more time reading them. I'll be sure to send them back to you when I'm done.”

“You're welcome,” David answered as they all shook hands once more. “I'm glad you took an interest.”

“Goodbye, Sheriff,” Steven put in. “If you're ever up in Denver...”

“Uh huh,” Nugent acknowledged the invitation. “Have a safe trip.

He quickly gathered up his hat from the table and, with a nod to the other two, he took his leave to get back to work. Charlie was a close second, on his heels.

Steven spotted Helen coming their way and pulled out his wallet to pay the bill. She gave him the slip of paper, but also handed him a sealed envelope along with it. Steven frowned at the unexpected offering and raised a brow at the young waitress.

“Louise asked me to give you this,” she explained in a whisper. “It's for Mr. Heyes.”

“Well—Mr. Heyes was just here,” Steven pointed out. “Why didn't you simply give it to him?”

“No, no!” Helen was adamant. “Louise insisted that I give it only to you, and not while you were in the company of Mr. Heyes. She wants you to give it to him after he arrives back home.”

“Indeed?” Steven asked, flipping the envelope over in his hand, as though that would give him a clue as to its contents. He sent a glance to David and the doctor shrugged.

“Here,” Helen continued as she dug into her apron pocket. “She didn't know how much you would charge, so I'll pay you your fee out of this and...”

“No, no, no,” Steven stopped her from taking money out of her tips. “Don't worry about it. I'll see he gets it upon his return.”

Helen smiled with relief.

“Oh, thank you,” she responded. “I was so afraid I would miss you, or get you confused with someone else. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

Helen was about to rush off, relieved that she had accomplished her task, when Steven stopped her again.

“Don't forget our tab,” he reminded her as he handed her the money. “Wouldn't do for you to get docked on that.”

“Oh! Oh my goodness!” She blushed slightly in her embarrassment as she took the payment. “Thank you. Safe journey.”

David and Steven exchanged looks again as the waitress scurried off.

“What in the world was that all about?” David asked.

“Who knows?” Steven answered. “Want to place a small wager that it's another one of Hannibal's jilted lovers?”

“Not on your life!” David stepped back, almost tripping over the chair. “This little excursion has cost me enough already!”

 

SANTA MARTA, MEXICO

 

“What a beautiful town!” Miranda exclaimed as she watched the landscape slide by outside the coach window. 

“You haven't even seen it yet,” Hannibal pointed out. “We're barely into the outskirts.”

“Oh, I don't care,” Randa laughed. “It's so nice to smell the ocean again, feel the fresh air. Yuma was hot and dry, day after day. This is wonderful. Look at all those boats, and so many different types!”

Heyes smiled at his wife, his heart soaring along with her excitement and joy over the new sights around her. She had lived such an sophisticated life compared to his, or so he imagined, that being able to show her something she had never seen before, gave him a thrill that set his pulse racing with pleasure.

“Wait an hour and the fishing boats will be coming in for night,” he told her. “Then you'll see a lot of boats. Often they're three or four wide, all tied to the next. That wharf is quite a sight when the fleet is heading out or coming back in.”

But Miranda had already moved on as the coach quickly made its way towards the hotel.

“Look at those dresses!” Miranda pointed, her eyes wide with a child's delight. “They're so colourfull, and their blouses are sparkling white. Why can't we do that? Our clothing looks so drab compared to what these ladies are wearing. And look at that hat! It looks as though she has the whole flower garden on her head!”

Breathless, with eyes sparkling, Miranda pulled away from the view and turned to face her husband, who was sitting across from her in the otherwise empty coach.

“What?” she asked indignantly. “What are you laughing at?”

“I'm not laughing,” Hannibal insisted, as he fought to control the twitching of his lips. “I'm trying not to sneeze.”

“Oh you! You're teasing me!” she accused him. “But isn't it a lovely town?”

“Yes it is,” Hannibal agreed. “I'm glad you're enjoying it.”

“The first thing I'm going to do after we get settled, is go out and buy one of those beautiful skirts!” she announced. “They look comfortable and cool. So much more appropriate for this hot weather than the tent I'm wearing now.”

Heyes smiled, already picturing his wife wearing the loose fitting native attire and thinking how nicely the colourful patterns would highlight her dark eyes and hair. His smile broadened.

Xxx

Having reached their destination, Heyes stepped out of the coach and turned to offer a hand to his lady. Miranda was just stepping onto the platform, still enchanted with the sights surrounding her, when her eyes were drawn to a very attractive Mexican gentleman striding towards them.

“Senor Heyes,” came a voice so romantically rich with soft tones and the gentlemanly accent of the local dialect that Miranda's knees practically wobbled out beneath her.

“Senor Cordoba,” Heyes greeted the mayor with a warm smile and an offered hand. “I didn't expect you to meet us at the stage.”

“But of course,” Cordoba countered. “Besides, I was looking forward to meeting your lovely wife.

“Yes,” Heyes placed a hand on his wife's back and smiled proudly. “Senor Cordoba, this is my wife, Miranda Heyes. Miranda, this is Senor Ramon Cordoba, the alcalde here in Santa Marta. Or I assume you are still the alcalde?”

“Yes,” Cordoba affirmed, but his eyes were smiling appreciatively at the lady in front of him.

“Senora Heyes,” he took her hand and bowed slightly in greeting. “What a pleasure it is to meet you. And I wish to thank you for sending me notice of your delay.”

“But of course,” Miranda answered, with the twinkle still lighting up her eyes.

Senor Cordoba smiled, realizing that he was being teased.

“You sent him a telegram?” Heyes asked.

“Yes,” Miranda admitted. “I felt it only polite to let the alcalde know that we were detained. He was kind enough to inform the hotel as well.”

“Oh.”

“I take it your business dealings have been settled now?” the alcalde enquired as he pulled his eyes away from the senora and focused on the husband.

“Yes!” Heyes assured him. “All settled.”

“Good. I am glad to hear it. It is very frustrating to have business get in the way of a vacation. Especially one of such a romantic nature.”

Heyes grinned and nodded. “Yes. Bad timing. But it's all been cleared up now, so I can relax and we will enjoy our stay here in your town. Just as planned.”

“Good. And you need not be concerned,” Cordoba continued. “As soon as you sent me the second telegram, I informed the hotel manager. Your room is awaiting you. I am sure you will find it satisfactory.”

“I'm sure we will,” Miranda readily agreed. “This is such a lovely town. I can't wait to explore it. Although, the first thing I want to do is freshen up. The coach ride here was enjoyable, but dusty!”

“Of course,” Cordoba acknowledged politely. “I will make sure your luggage is taken in. In the meantime, may I invite you to my villa for dinner tomorrow evening? I am having a few guests over, and I am sure they would be honoured to meet you.”

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Miranda accepted with glee.

Cordoba smiled at the senora but sent the enquiring gaze to her husband.

Heyes grinned as Miranda's brows went up at the unintended snub. Instantly her attraction to this handsome man dropped down a notch or two.

“Thank you,” Heyes accepted the invitation. “We'd be happy to join you.”

“Good! Dinner is at eight,” Cordoba informed them. “It will give us a chance to get caught up on old times—and old acquaintances.”

“Yes!” Heyes grinned. “Won't that be fun!”

“Yes. Until then. Senor Heyes, Senora.” The alcalde gave a slight bow again and made his departure.

“Well,” Miranda commented as the dashing figure strode away. “I'm not sure whether I should swoon or be insulted. Was he being condescending, or was that just his way?”

“It's just his way. We are in another country now, and customs are a little different,” Heyes assured her. “Clementine found him to be quite attractive.”

“That's hardly to his credit!” Miranda laughed. “Clementine finds every man attractive.”

“Hmm, you have a point there,” Hannibal agreed. “Come on, let's get settled.”

Xxx

Miranda lay on her back, her striped body glistening from a sheen of sweat that covered her from brow to toes. She lay with her eyes closed and a smile upon her face as she basked in the after-glow of love making. Hannibal lay on his side, his eyes open and taking in every tantalizing curve of her supple form. His left hand was gently caressing her tummy as he became re-acquainted with its ever expanding contours.

The loose fitting Mexican skirts that Miranda had insisted on buying and wearing to dinner that evening, was perfect for her these days, as they hid every hint of her pregnancy. Even in Mexico, the older generation still held to the dictate that no self-respecting Americano woman would permit herself to be seen out in public while in the 'family way'. Heyes smiled to himself at the thought of trying to keep any of their modern young ladies cooped up in their 'confinement' for nine months. No, that wasn't going to happen. But still, when away from familiar territory, one should be discreet.

Heyes smiled again. Discreet. Right. Not with the intelligent and liberal minded woman he'd married. Heyes was sure that every male head in the restaurant had been turned towards them. Fortunately Miranda's family state could still be hidden quite effectively with the loose clothing, and if anyone actually had been looking closely, she simply would have appeared a little plump. Not an unexpected condition for a woman of Miranda's age, especially if she'd already had children.

Always having been tall and slender, like her cousin, Miranda was feeling uncomfortable with her expanding waist line. She was convinced that every aspect of her was going to bloat out beyond reason, and that soon she would be fat and extremely unattractive. Hannibal thought she looked beautiful.

He caressed the rounding tummy, gazing at it with a soppy love look in his eyes. He imagined his seed inside the warm cocoon, growing and blossoming with every passing day. His child was in there, comfortable and safe from this crazy world, at least for now. Heyes found his excitement growing right along with his wife's abdomen, and there were times when he could hardly wait for this new little person to come out and be introduced.

He sighed contentedly, and shifting position he leaned over and kissed that beautiful, expanding, soon to be fat belly. Miranda giggled and ran her hand through her husband's hair.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” she asked quietly. “Certainly we're not going to laze around the hotel all day.”

“Nooo,” Heyes assured her. “I thought we could go out on one of those boat tours. You know the ones that take you right out to deep water and they have the glass bottoms so you can see all the fish and the coral...”

“And the sharks.”

“Well, yes,” Heyes chuckled. “Maybe. I didn't think a few little sharks would deter you from seeing something so beautiful.”

Miranda opened her eyes and smiled over at him. “You're right,” she admitted. “On the contrary; it makes it all the more exciting.”

“Good.” Heyes pulled himself up his wife's torso and kissed her lips. “We'd better...” Kiss, “...get some sleep...” Kiss “...a busy day tomorrow...” 

Xxx

Hannibal felt uneasy, stepping out onto the wharf that would take them to the tourist craft awaiting their arrival. He had been on boats before, but they had all been larger ferries or the floating hotels of the paddle wheel variety. As a child, he and Jed had sometimes gone out with Yannack and his father, but those days were long gone, and he'd lost his youthful sea legs ages ago. The wharfs he was accustomed to now were solid structures that didn't float and flutter with every lapping wave that splashed against it.

This undulating walkway took some getting used to. Being balanced and nimble on solid ground as well as on horseback was one thing, but this constantly shifting deck took all of his focus to navigate with any form of grace or dignity. Miranda watched him while trying to hide her smile. She was just as unaccustomed to moving pathways as he was, but for some reason she seemed better able to navigate the the pitfalls.

By the time they had walked the distance to where the boat awaited them, Hannibal was beginning to feel his balance adjusting to the shifting circumstances. Their craft, the Caballito de Mar, was a 12 foot long steamboat that was open from bow to stern, and though tricky for a landlubber to navigate boarding her, once that feat was accomplished, she was a comfortable and reliable craft. There were benches positioned all around the inner deck, surrounding a six by two foot glass bottom, that would give all the passengers a stunning view of the underwater life that thrived in the warm waters off the Santa Marta coast.

Hannibal and Miranda both sat down with sighs of relief at having achieved their goal without incident. They smiled at one another and held hands.

“This is exciting,” Miranda commented. “I've never done anything like this before. And such a beautiful day. I hope the water is clear further out. It seems rather murky here. I do so want to see what's out there.”

“Si, Senora,” one of the two crew members answered her. “El aqua, ah, the water. She is always oscuro here. You see, we get out there,” and he waved his arm to indicate the large bay, “and the water, she be claro como el cristal.”

“Thank you,” she told him. “This is going to be fun.”

“Si.”

Miranda's smile intensified, and her eyes were so full of excitement and anticipation that Hannibal couldn't help but laugh out loud. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and he was finding his own heart beating a little faster as the two Mexicans hurried back and forth along the length of the vessel in preparation of departure.

“Come along Elspeth,” a large man dressed in a suit and tie was encouraging his wife in her efforts to stumble over to the waiting craft. “We don't want to miss the dang thing, now that we're this close to it.”

Elspeth, who was just as thin and tight as her husband was rotund, did share with him the one aspect of being overdressed for the occasion. Her narrow skirted dress and high heeled, latched up boots were hardly appropriate attire for an outing on the ocean.

“I am coming, Freddie!” she exclaimed. “My heels keep getting hung up in the spaces between the boards. You would think that these people could at least build a decent wharf! Oh! Oh my!”

This exclamation came as the result of one of those heels slipping in between the boards and becoming thoroughly stuck. Elspeth's arms flailed out in front of her as she dropped her parasol and clattered ungracefully to her backside.

“Oh oh,” Hannibal commented with a smile, but was still quick to jump up and come to the lady's assistance.

Having quickly regained his natural grace and agility, Heyes stepped through the open half door in the hull of the boat and was on the wharf in an instant. Freddie had returned to his wife, and having taken hold of one of her arms, was trying to haul the poor woman to her feet.

“Wait, wait,” Heyes told him, as he knelt down beside Elspeth. “She's stuck.”

“That much is apparent, young man!” Elspeth snapped at him as she rolled herself over from her knees and onto her butt. “Kindly get me unstuck!”

“Yes ma'am.” Heyes sent her a reassuring smile, then frowned as he surveyed the trapped boot heel. He would have to take hold of her ankle in order to get the boot freed. “Umm...?” he enquired, and indicated the entrapped foot. “Do you mind?”

“No, no,” she waved him onwards. “Just do it.”

“Perhaps I should...” Freddie harrumphed, his sense of decency being threatened by this young man laying hands upon his wife's person.

But before his indignation could truly take hold, Heyes had given the ankle a slight twist and then a sharp tug. The heel came free, and despite a few miniscule scrapes from the wood, was none the worse for wear.

“Thank goodness!” Elspeth exclaimed. “I feared I would be stuck there all afternoon!”

“I hardly think your husband would have permitted that, ma'am,” Heyes assured her as he and Freddie helped her back to her feet. “It was a simple matter to free it up.”

“Yes, my dear,” Freddie took over, using his bulk to pressure Heyes away. “It was easy enough to deal with. Now let's get you on board.”

Heyes allowed himself to be backed off, but stepping back onto the boat, he turned to offer assistance again, just in case the obstacle proved too much for Freddie to deal with.

“Oh my,” Elspeth complained as she eyed the step across open water. “I'm not sure this is a wise idea. What if I fall through?”

“You won't fall through, my dear,” Freddie assured her, with a touch of impatience. It's a simple step across and then down into the boat. Come, come. Just do it.”

“Oh...”

Heyes smiled and offered his hand to the lady. Elspeth grasped it, and hung on so tightly, the ex-outlaw was almost brought to tears. He was brave though, and wouldn't allow the pain to show.

“There you go,” Heyes assured her. “Just step across. We've got you.”

Elspeth took a deep breath and made the leap of twelve inches. As is so often the case when one overcompensates, the lady put too much oomph into her approach and ended up in Heyes' arms, with him having to take a quick step backwards to avoid being bowled over.

“Oh my,” she flustered. “I'm so sorry.”

“That's quite alright,” Heyes assured her and flashed his dimples.

Her eyes drifted up to meet his, and her knees went weak with the contact. 'How unfair it was for a man to have such beautiful eyes.' she thought as the soft sea breeze played seductively with her hair, and the birds on wing cried out their playful song as they dove and circled, looking for tidbits. The smell of the ocean was strong in her nostrils, and her senses disappeared into remembered romantic stories of dashing pirates stealing away the damsel in distress. Time slowed down, and the blinking of those lovely dark lashes took an eternity as the lady felt herself swooning. She was lost in those eyes. They were like warm chocolate, with just the right hint of mischief to lure a lady to sink into their depth, no matter what her age.

“Elspeth!” Freddie pulled his wife away. “Leave the man alone. He has better things to do than doddle over some silly old hen.”

“Oh yes,” she smiled at her rescuer, suddenly aware of how tight the collar of her dress had become “I do apologize.”

“That's quite alright,” Heyes assured her. 

The three people settled onto the benches and introductions began.

“I must say, ah...Senor,” Elspeth began. “that you speak wonderful English for a Mexican.”

“Oh, we're not Mexican,” Heyes corrected her. “We're Americans, like yourself. My name is Han and this is my wife, Miranda.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Miranda greeted them. “We're here on...”

“You're not a Mexican?” Freddie asked.

“Ah, no.” Heyes was slightly taken aback by the rudeness shown to his wife. He was beginning to regret assisting these people at all.

“Oh dear,” Elspeth sputtered and began to fan herself with her overly large sun hat. “I assumed by your clothing...”

“Didn't take you long to go native, did it?” Freddie harrumphed.

“Aren't the colors beautiful?” Miranda stepped in, choosing to take the high road. “And the material is so light and comfortable. Just perfect for an outing such as this.”

The older couple sat, and with arched brows, scrutinized the pair sitting across from them. At first glance, they might have appeared, from a distance, to be light-skinned Mexicans. Both had the dark hair and eyes, and both had exchanged their heavier 'western' clothing for that of the more breathable cotton worn by the locals. They had even set aside their restricting boots and shoes, for the more comfortable sandals to complete their casual attire. 

Still, upon closer acquaintanceship, it should have been obvious that neither Hannibal, nor his wife were indigenous to Mexico. They smiled back at the laced up and restricted couple, with their inappropriate footwear, and waited for an acknowledgement of Miranda's comment.

The strained silence might have lasted throughout the whole venture if not for the timely arrival of one more couple, hurrying to make it to the boat on time. Indeed, they had cut it close. One of the crew was busy coaxing the small steam engine into action, while the other was getting ready to cast off the ropes just as the newcomers put in a boisterous appearance.

“We made it!” the young woman exclaimed as she and her man jumped on board. 

“I told you we would, if we made a run for it,” her escort teased. “Just in the nick of time too.” 

The newest arrivals sat down and worked at catching their breath after the mad dash along the wharf. Heyes and Miranda both grinned at their enthusiasm and Heyes leaned forward to offer his hand.

“Hello,” he said. “I'm Han and this is my wife, Miranda.”

The young man grasped his hand and grinned even more.

“Hello,” he greeted back. “I'm Paul. This is my wife, Connie.”

“Hello,” Miranda greeted them, instantly liking their youthful excitement for the adventure ahead.

Heyes nodded quickly to Paul and then his wife, from whom he quickly averted his eyes. She was very pretty, with the light blonde hair and blue eyes that often accompanies the peaches and cream complexion that so many men find attractive. But it was not her physical beauty that had caused Heyes discomfort, but her coloring. Looking into those blue eyes, he had instantly been reminded of Amy.

It was like a knife going through his heart. Not because of any love lost, but because of the pain that that woman had brought into their lives. He had been taken by surprise by these emotions and he'd had to look away from her to be able to compose himself. Other than her coloring, this young woman was nothing like Amy, and Heyes resolved himself to refrain from the comparison.

Fortunately, his indiscretion was covered up by the continuation of introductions as Paul and Connie turned their attentions to the other couple on board.

“Hello sir,” Paul greeted Freddie with respect and extended his hand. “I'm Paul and this is my wife, Connie.”

“Humph,” Freddie clasped the hand and gave it a hearty shake. “Hello young man. I'm Mr. Carmichael, and this is my wife, Mrs. Carmichael.”

The young couple's enthusiasm waned a touch at the formal introduction, but they accepted it, and nodded their hellos.

The boat gave a slight jerk, accompanied by a little squeak from Elspeth, and with the little engine chugging away, the excursion headed away from the dock and out towards deeper water. 

Xxx

An hour later, all pretenses had been forgotten about as the six passengers sat huddled around the glass window on the world beneath them. Once away from the docks and other boats, the engine had been shut down and the vessel allowed to drift with the outgoing tide, so as not to intrude on this watery wonderland slowly floating by below them.

“It's so beautiful,” Connie said for the umpteenth time. “It is way beyond what I imagined.”

Indeed, the boatman, Nico, had been correct in his assurance that the waters beyond the port would be Crystal clear, and they all would have sworn they could reach down and pull up a handful of sand. That is, when they could see the sand. Coral of brilliant pinks and orange, blues and greens littered the bottom of the bay, while long tendrils of kelp swayed back and forth with the undercurrent of the tide.

It was mesmerizing, and all of them stared as though in a trance.

“It's like my garden back home,” Elspeth whispered. “What glorious colors. Who would have thought such beauty was just beneath the waves?”

“What's this coming?” Heyes asked as he pointed towards a number of bulky shapes slowly paddling their way towards the boat.

“Good heavens!” Miranda exclaimed. “They look like turtles. But they're huge!”

“Si, Senora,” Nico agreed. “They are tortugas de mar, ahh...sea turtles. Very big, yes?”

Everyone nodded.

“Yes,” Paul voiced the agreement. “Very big.”

Nico turned to his companion and grinned.

“¿Muy bueno comer demasiado, eh Desmondo?” he suggested quietly. “Tal vez nos salen nuevamente esta noche y coger uno.” *Very good eating too, eh Desmondo? Maybe we come back out tonight and catch one.”

Desmondo also grinned, revealing a number of missing teeth.

“Si,” was all he had to say.

“Look!” Connie exclaimed. “One of them is coming over!”

“Oh dear!” Elspeth squealed as she pulled back from the glass. “Is it attacking us? Will it capsize the boat?”

“No, no,” Nico was quick to give assurance. “Not mean creatures. Docile, yes?”

“Are you quite sure?”

“Si, senora. No worry.”

Elspeth allowed herself to move closer again as everyone else was peering down into the water.

“Oh my,” Miranda gasped, and brought her hands up to her mouth.

One of the gigantic sea turtles had lumbered its way up to the glass floor of the boat, and bumped its nose against it two or three times. It floated there, drifting with the current, one curious eye focused on the tourists who gazed down at him. For that one brief moment in time, six humans connected with the marvellous sea creature, until, with a wave of one of its paddle-like appendages, the animal pushed off from the boat and glided down into the depths to join his pod.

Everyone sat silent for a moment, mouths agape and eyes staring. None of them could quite believe what they had just seen and witnessed, and none of them would ever forget it either.

The next hour was spent with the group joined in their mutual entrancement with the strange new world that drifted by beneath them. Once they became accustomed to the colourful plant life, their eyes adjusted to the different patterns and variety of shapes and movements. Before long, they were all noticing the less obvious sea life that lived within the waving plants and coral reefs.

Schools of small fish darted in and out amongst the garden, flashing here and there like quick silver, and grabbing miniscule tidbits of food as they went. Suddenly they all dashed away, disappearing into the kelp. The people on the boat were disappointed, and searched for the reason for the sudden departure.

“There,” Heyes announced, and pointed down and to the left.

“Where?” Freddie asked. “I don't see anything.”

“No, it's right there,” Heyes insisted. 

The other passengers followed his pointing finger and tried to distinguish a different movement within the flowing kelp. Then there was a sudden intake of breath from everyone who was staring into the depths. Elspeth shrieked and pushed herself away from the glass.

“Oh sweet Jesus!” she exclaimed. “What is that? It's a monster from the underworld!”

Nico rolled his eyes at his partner, but dutifully stepped forward to take a look at the mysterious sea creature that had everyone all worked up.

“Ah,” he said as he peered into the depths. “That no monster, that anguila de moray. Ahh, eel. Predator, yes. But we fine here.”

The group watched in silence as the long, snake-like creature casually glided through its domain. All other inhabitants of the reef had disappeared into hiding holes.

“My fingers are tingling!” Connie admitted with girlish giggle. “How silly to be afraid of something that can't even reach us.”

“I don't think we'll go swimming tomorrow, after all,” Paul announced. “We'll stay safe and sound on solid ground.”

“Yes!” Connie agreed.

“Si,” Nico also agreed. “Some people do swim here, but locals. We know how. You should not. También hay tiburones. Ah, sharks also.”

Miranda's eyes lit up with excitement at the mention of the fierce predators.

“That would be so thrilling!” she exclaimed as the other two ladies present sent her incredulous looks. “Do you think we might see one?”

Nico shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said. “There are lots here.”

Heyes grinned as Elspeth and Connie both shivered at the prospect, while Miranda grinned with delight. The opportunity to see a shark would make her day.

The following hour was spent being mesmerized by the amazing underworld life that went about their daily routines underneath the innocent waves. So many different shapes and sizes of fishes, with colours ranging from blueish silver to the hottest of pinks. Yellow and blue angelfish made their rounds while bright orange seahorses floated and danced with the current.

The boat even drifted through a large school of jellyfish of various colors and sizes. They surrounded the boat, some so close to the surface that the hull bumped into them while passing through. Others so deep down that their tendrils dragged along the bottom.

“Those are innocent enough looking creatures,” Elspeth commented. “Much more pleasant than sharks.”

Nico chuckled, and shook his head.

“No, no Senora,” he told her. “Very dangerous. Do not touch. They sting. The big ones there, they could kill a man. Very dangerous.”

“Oh my goodness!” Elspeth sat down on the bench and fanned herself. “Does everything in the ocean here, kill you?”

“Si, Senora. Just about. No go swimming.”

“They appear so helpless,” Heyes commented. “They don't even have control over where the tide takes them. What do they eat? How do they survive?”

“Schools of fish swim into their midst,” Nico explained. “The jalea de pescado catch the fish with their tendrils and sting it. And they have no predators. Nothing eats them. Very successful, si?”

Heyes nodded. “Si.”

Heyes found himself in reflection once again. How odd that he would feel any kind of simpatico with these rudderless creatures, and yet he did. Wasn't this how he and Jed had lived so many years of their lives? Drifting aimlessly, they had been pushed along by the ebb and flow of circumstances so often beyond their control. They often never knew where their next meal was coming from, or who might suddenly show up in their midst and challenge their very existence. And yet, the Wyoming Territory had deemed them so dangerous, that they had spent eight years on the top of their Most Wanted list.

Heyes glanced up from his musings, and found his wife smiling at him. She'd caught him again, and had quietly watched him as he withdrew inside himself and reflected upon a life that was now so much a part of both their pasts.

He smiled back at her, feeling a little embarrassed that he had been found out, but their guide's next words caught their attention and broke the spell.

“We should head back soon,” Nico continued. “It is almost time for the fishing fleet to return. We need to get in before they do.”

“Thank goodness,” Elspeth approved. “It's all very beautiful, but I'm ready for supper.”

“Oh no!” Miranda was disappointed. “I haven't seen a shark!”

“I must admit, now that I've had time to adjust to the idea, that would be thrilling,” Connie agreed. “I mean, since we're already out here...”

“It would be interesting, wouldn't it?” Paul agreed.

Freddie harrumphed.

“If they don't put in an appearance, then we can hardly see them, can we?” he pointed out. “I'm just as happy to head back in.”

“Are you sure we have to head back right away?” Heyes asked. “I doubt we'll get the chance to come out again.”

Nico and Desmondo exchanged looks, and the latter shrugged. Nico smiled.

“Si, we still have time,” he said. “We can start up the engine and take you to the area where we often see the sharks. We must be quick, though.”

Elspeth and Freddie slumped in disappointment, while everyone else cheered their approval. Nico grinned. Four of them, at least, were turning out to be fun people.

Xxx

Half an hour later, the small tour group found themselves out in deeper water. It had changed color as well, from a crystal clear azure to a denser aquamarine, and the bottom was too far down to be seen. Elspeth stayed away from the glass bottom, finding the unfathomable depths difficult to stomach, but the others still gathered around it to peer down into the unknown.

Nico scanned the oceanscape along the surface, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of shark activity. He knew that at this time of day, they often swam through these waters on their way to the hunt, and he usually had success at spotting them when tourists put in the request. This time proved to be no exception. 

“Allí!” Nico suddenly shouted, and pointed off to starboard. “There!”

Four of the party straightened up and gazed off in the indicated direction.

“I don't see anything,” Paul announced, feeling disappointed.

“Fins!” Nico specified. “There!”

The group continued to search, but the telltale fins remained hidden from them. Heyes silently cursed his failing vision. Five years ago, he would have had no problem spotting a detail in the distance, but now, picking out a gray fin in a blue ocean was beyond his abilities. He was still surprised that he had spotted the eel. He shook his head and felt like giving up.

“Oh!” Miranda announced, and pointed in the same direction as Nico. “There it is! And there's another! Oh my, they appear to be heading this way.”

“Si,” Nico agreed. “They are curious. No worry. Just no swimming, ha ha.”

“You needn't worry about that,” Connie emphasized. “I won't be going near the sides of the boat.”

Miranda nodded agreement as everyone now could see the fins coming towards them. All eyes were on the two creatures, and excitement rose in their hearts with the knowledge that they would soon be seeing these dangerous predators up close and personal.

Everyone jumped, and Elspeth again let out a little shriek as something bumped into the bottom of the boat, and actually caused the craft to rock a little bit. Those who were standing close to the glass bottom, quickly back stepped and sat down on the bench, as a third shark banged its snout against the glass and peered up at them, just as the turtle had done.

They all gasped with the dangerous excitement of the contact, but nobody got any closer. Even through the glass, the shark emanated power and danger; a truly formidable predator. The staring eye sent chills down their spines, and when the fish gnashed its numerous rows of teeth, everyone felt the primal fear. 

Heyes was briefly taken back in time, when he was even more up close and personal with a dangerous predator. The look in that cougar's eyes had been murderous and personal, and it would have been successful too, if it hadn't been for the Kid's quick intervention with the rifle. This shark's eye had looked flatter, and there was no personal malice in it. But the knowledge that your life could end between its jaws held the same intensity, and Heyes found himself wishing he'd brought his scholfield with him after all. 

Finally, with a lightening quick swish of its tail, the shark moved off, and glided down into the depths. Everyone gave a sigh of relief, and Heyes sat back, feeling slightly shaken.

“Oh my,” Miranda was the first to speak. “He must have been at least four feet long. I knew they were big, but seeing one up close like that...”

“That's a little one,” Nico informed them. “Not full grown yet.”

“Really?” Miranda asked, incredulously. “How big do they get?”

Nico shrugged.

“Depends on type of shark.” he told them. “ Gran tiburón blanco and ah, Hammerhead? They are very big. You see, this one approach, we see his tail fin, si? See how far from top fin to tail fin?”

Everyone looked and nodded, feeling nervous yet fascinated at the same time.

“That shark is full grown,” Nico continued. “See?”

As the group watched the two sharks approaching the boat, the fins slowly began to descend until they disappeared under the waves. Anxiety inside the boat escalated.

“Where did they go?” Freddie asked, nervously. “Those monsters were almost as long as this craft. They could capsize us.” 

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Elspeth whimpered, as her fan went into overtime. “I told you we should have just headed back.”

Nico quickly returned to the stern just in case they had to move out of these waters, and his actions were not lost on Elspeth. She looked as though she was about to have an attack of the vipers. The other tourists were transfixed, peering down through the glass bottom as the two sharks approached.

As it turned out, neither Elspeth nor Nico needed to have been concerned, as the sharks had no real interest in the floating object. They knew where they were going to hunt, and that they would find food there, so a quick look was all they took the time to do.

It was still a thrill for the passengers though. The biggest shark, that must have been at least eight feet from nose to tail, swam by beneath them in a casual fashion. He was the alpha hunter in these waters, and he knew it. There was no need for him to be in a hurry to go anywhere. And yet, seemingly drifting by in slow motion, his tail barely moving from side to side, his large, heavy body was pushed steadily forward through the water. In less than a minute the predator was disappearing from view as it slid into the distance and went about its business.

Four sets of eyes stared, transfixed upon the departing creature. Only when it and its fellows had all vanished, did the people allow themselves to breathe again. They straightened up from the glass bottom, and everyone started laughing at once.

“Wow!” Miranda exclaimed. “Have you ever seen anything so marvelous?”

“Nope,” Heyes agreed, his smile taking over his whole face. 

“That was amazing,” Connie breathed, her eyes wide with excitement. “No one back home is going to believe us! Oh! I'm so glad we didn't miss the boat!”

Paul remained silent, but his expression said it all. This was a boat ride none of them were going to forget.

Freddie sighed. “Can we head back in now?”

Xxx

The gate leading onto the mayor's premises had been standing open to allow guests to enter and drive down the roadway leading to the front of the stylish residence. The taxi stopped outside the entrance to the large adobe style home, and Hannibal stepped out first so he could turn and offer his hand to his lady.

Miranda accepted it, and stepping delicately down to the ground, she waited as her husband turned to pay the driver.

“Oh no, Senor,” the young man holding the reins told him adamantly. “The alcalde, he pick up the fares for his guests. You do not owe me anything, Senor.”

“Oh.” Heyes hesitated, uncertain as to how to proceed. “Well, will you accept a gratuity?”

“A gratuity, Senor?” The man shrugged, indicating that he was not familiar with that word.

“A tip,” Heyes clarified. “In appreciation of a fine ride.”

“Oh!” The man's eyes lit up with realization. “Ahh! Propina. Si, Senor. Gracias.”

Heyes smiled and pulling out his wallet, he handed their driver an appropriate tip. The hand that reached out for it was quick to accept, and the driver nodded his appreciation. 

“Have a pleasant evening, Senor and Senora.”

“I'm sure we will,” Heyes commented. 

“And I will be quite happy to drive you and your esposa back to the hotel when you are ready,” the driver quickly offered as he pocketed his coinage. “I shall return around 11:00 if that is suitable.”

“Thank you.”

The driver nodded, clucked to his horse, and the conveyance quickly moved away to continue with their night's work.

“11:00?” Miranda asked as she took her husband's arm. “I'm not sure I'll still be awake by then.”

“You will be,” Heyes assured her. “Senor Cordoba puts on some fine dinners, and I'm sure the other guests will be entertaining.”

“Oh, must we do this?” Miranda asked wistfully. “I'm suddenly very tired.”

“What?” Heyes teased her. “But you were the one who wanted to come. We had the porter at the hotel freshen up our fine attire. You did your hair and put color on your cheeks and liner on your eyes. And we're already here.”

Miranda giggled. “Oh, I know. But it is such a lovely evening. Why don't we go to the waterfront instead and watch the sun go down? I can smell the ocean on the breeze, and it would be so much nicer than a stuffy old dinner party.”

Heyes chuckled pleasantly. She loved his chuckle.

“We've been on the ocean all day!” he protested.

“And now I think I'm addicted to it,” she pouted playfully. “Come on, let's go.”

“No you don't!” he said as he gave her a slight push up the steps. “You wanted to come to a posh dinner party at the alcalde's home, and now we're here. There's even a mariachi player in there for our entertainment. You wouldn't want to disappoint him, would you? We can watch the sun go down tomorrow evening.”

“Oh, you tyrant!”

“Mmm hmm.”

Coming up the steps, they found the front door already open and the doorman standing in attendance and giving them a curious look. Gringos were such strange creatures. He could not understand why his boss insisted on entertaining them as often as he did. Perhaps it was simply politics. Keeping the Americanos happy and returning to their resort town was a great source of income, and it kept most of the local people employed throughout the year.

With that thought in his mind, the doorman smiled and bowed a greeting to his jefe's guests. He offered to take the lady's shawl and the gentleman's hat, and then he escorted them into the parlour.

Miranda was looking around her, taking in the lovely tapestries that hung from the walls, and noticing the soft carpeting under her feet. The richness in the textures and colors on the exquisite designs almost caused her hesitation in walking upon them, but there was no way to avoid it, so she stepped delicately. Coming in to the parlour, her eyes were captured by large marble carvings and statues that lined the parameter, and the magnificent paintings that filled in the gaps between them.

“I did not realize that the mayor of a small Mexican town would offer such a lucrative living,” she whispered. “This home is exquisite.”

“I think Senor Cordoba was a wealthy man before he took office,” Heyes murmured. “He probably could have funded the building of the town school all on his own.”

“Yes,” Randa agreed. “It makes you wonder why he would accept a bribe—”

“Donation.”

“—Donation, to let you and Jed go.”

Heyes leaned towards his wife's ear. “He wanted to get into Clementine's petticoats.”

Miranda gasped.

“Hannibal!” She laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm.

“Ah! Senor and Senora Heyes,” Cordoba greeted them. “I am pleased you could make it. Did the driver have any trouble finding your suite?”

The couple instantly straightened up and tried to stifle their giggling. Cordoba looked at them with polite curiosity.

“Is there something amiss?” he asked.

“No, no!” Heyes insisted as he got himself under control. “It was a pleasant ride over. In fact my wife was just commenting on what a lovely home you have.”

“Ah,” Cordoba smiled and inclined his head to the Senora. “Yes. This residence has been in my family for many generations. It has served us well.”

“It's magnificent,” Miranda confirmed, but the twinkle in her eyes belied the seriousness of her tone.

“Indeed,” Cordoba agreed, then quickly turned his attention to Heyes. “Come. There is someone here who is looking forward to greeting you.”

“Oh?” Heyes asked, his tone both curious and guarded.

“Joshua!”

Both Miranda and Hannibal turned at the lively feminine voice that had called to him from across the room. Heyes smiled widely at the attractive woman coming to greet them, but trepidation was not far beneath the surface. How in the world was his wife going to react to meeting yet another of Hannibal's ladies coming out from his past?

“Meg,” Heyes greeted her, smiling warmly. “I thought you were back in Ohio.”

“I was,” she said, and laughed at some inner joke. “But after a couple of years, I decided that Ohio simply didn't have the charm of Santa Marta. And since the villa here was already bought and paid for, with my name on the papers, well, I decided it would be a shame to simply rent it out—and that I should come and live here myself. So I did!”

“Yes!” Heyes chuckled. “So you did. Oh, I suppose I should be calling you Margaret now.”

“Oh, Joshua. You silly!” she responded. “I went by Meg Parker because that's what everyone has always called me. Easier to remember an alias when you already use it.”

“You have a valid point.”

“Oh come, Joshua,” Meg continued, taking Heyes' arm and attempting to lead him away. “Let's go sit, and talk over old times. We had such fun together, until that nasty business with Elizabeth Carter. I'm so thankful that you talked me into coming forward, and that your friend was cleared.”

“Ah, Meg,” Heyes interrupted this monologue, and politely extracted his arm from her grasp. “I'd like you to meet my wife, Miranda. Miranda, this is Margaret Carruthers. Remember, I told you about the little problem Jed ran into down here...”

“Oh!” Meg backed off slightly, her excited sparkle dimming just a bit. “I didn't know you were married! Really, Ramon. You should have told me. Here I thought this lady was with you.”

“Apologies,” Cordoba answered. “I felt it best that Senor Heyes fill in the details himself.”

“Of course,” she agreed, and she placed her hand on Heyes' arm once again. “Imagine my surprise when Ramon told me. Even in Ohio, we've heard of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, but of course it never occurred to me that I would wind up meeting them way out here!”

“Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry?” came Freddie's voice from behind Heyes. “What have those two thieves got to do with this gathering?”

Heyes and Miranda both turned to find themselves looking at their previous companions from the afternoon. The alcalde was quick to step in to acknowledge the new arrivals.

“Ah, Senor and Senora Carmichael,” he greeted them. “I am very pleased you could make it. May I introduce Senor and Senora...”

“Yes, yes,” Freddie dismissed the alcalde as he focused on his afternoon companions. “I didn't realize that you were invited to this event as well.”

“Likewise,” Heyes answered dryly. “It seems to have become a gathering of familiar faces.”

“Good,” Cordoba stated, doing an excellent job of diplomacy. “I do try to invite all the Americanos to join me for a dinner while they are visiting in town. It gives you a chance to meet others of similar interests. However, it seems that you have already met.”

“Yes,” Miranda assured him. “We went out on the boat tour this afternoon. It was quite the experience.”

“Isn't it wonderful?” Meg quipped in. “I've been out a couple of times since I moved back here. It never seems to get old.”

“Well, I found it a little bit too exhilarating,” Elspeth contradicted. “I could have done without the sharks.”

“I'm sure you were quite safe, Senora,” Cordoba assured her. “We have not lost a tourist yet.”

“Unless you want to count Mr. Hanley,” Meg pointed out, and then sighed and rolled her eyes at the memory of those events. 

“Senor Hanley was murdered,” Cordoba reminded her, with an expression of pained patience. “Hardly the same situation.”

“Murdered?” Elspeth squeaked. “There's been a murder?”

“It was a number of years ago, Senora,” Cordoba assured her. “It was all cleared up at the time. We have had no problems like that since. I assure you, you are quite safe here.”

“Yes, but it was quite an experience, none the less,” Meg continued. “And of course, that was when I first met Joshua.”

“Joshua?” Freddie asked with a raised brow. “Who is that?”

“Ahh...” Heyes tried to divert the conversation.

“Oh, how silly of me!” Meg proclaimed. “I swear, Joshua, I'm simply not going to get used to you being Hannibal Heyes. You just don't look like an outlaw.”

“Ex-outlaw,” Heyes felt obliged to point out.

Freddie bristled, and Elspeth squeaked—again. Miranda sighed and Hannibal groaned. Senor Cordoba smiled quietly.

“What in the world?” Freddie attacked. “How dare a scoundrel like you show up at an affair like this, and pass yourself off as a gentleman! Mr. Cordoba, obviously you were not aware of this man's true identity before inviting him here. I shall be happy to assist in having him and his 'wife' thrown out of your home!”

It was Heyes' turn to bristle, and he was almost on the attack when the alcalde intervened.

“I assure you, Senor Carmichael, I am well aware of his identity,” Cordoba told him. “And I owe hm and his partner a debt of gratitude. It was through Senor Heyes' dedication and skill that we were able to track down the true killer of Mr. Hanley. They also made a large contribution to our town that enabled us to build the fine school house that now stands to the west of us. Senor Heyes and his esposa are most welcome here.”

Freddie still blustered and harrumphed a few times.

“A contribution eh?” he repeated, suspiciously. “Attained through nefarious means, no doubt.”

“I assure you,” Heyes interjected on his own behalf. “My partner and I had changed our ways by that time. The money we donated to this town was earned honestly.”

“Indeed?” Freddie seemed sceptical. “Then why were you sent to prison?”

“You went to prison, Joshua?” Meg exclaimed. “I never heard about that!”

Heyes stiffened at the mention of his previous residence, and his eyes darkened with anger. He felt Miranda's hand on his arm, cautioning him to stay civil.

“Hypocrisy, Mr. Carmichael,” he managed to calmly inform him, but decided that it was time to switch to the more formal address. “The governor denied the arrangement we had with him, in order to protect his own political ass.”

“Deservedly so,” Freddie retorted, then looked down his nose at the alcalde. “I must admit, I find it hard to understand why a man in your position would allow a wanted criminal to be...”

“I'm not wanted anymore, Mr. Carmichael, and nor am I a criminal,” Heyes interjected. “As you yourself just pointed out, I have paid my debt to Wyoming—and am a free man.”

“And what are you doing with your freedom?” Freddie asked from behind his raised nose. “Conning your way into the homes of wealthy people and pretending that you're a gentleman?”

“My husband is a gentleman,” Miranda informed him. “More so than you are, it would appear. Nor does he need to con his way into anyone's home, as those people who take the time to get to know him, welcome him openly.”

“Well I...”

“Come, Freddie,” Elspeth cut in. “There's the other young couple who were on the boat with us. Let's go and acknowledge them, shall we?”

“Oh yes, of course, my dear.” Freddie appeared relieved at the easy out. “They, at least, were respectable.”

With a quick nod to the alcalde and Mrs. Carruthers, the Carmichaels departed that company and moved off to a comfortable distance.

“My goodness, how rude,” Meg exclaimed. “How do you put up with that?”

“My apologies,” Cordoba offered. “I would not have included them here this evening, if I'd realized their response.”

“Don't worry about it, Senor,” Heyes assured him. “Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to matter where I go, I will be running into people such as him. Comes with the territory, I suppose.”

Meg laughed, and moving in between Hannibal and Miranda, slipped her arm through his and attempted to lead him towards the dining area.

“Well you're welcome to come and sit beside me, Joshua,” she stated, and then remembered her manners and turned her smile to Miranda. “And of course, your lovely wife! You must tell me how you snared this handsome devil, so I can use it the next time I find myself in such company.”

“Perhaps it was the fact that it was not my intention to snare him,” Miranda quipped, her anger at Carmichael intensifying her irritation at this insufferable woman. The fact that her husband, apparently, did not also find her insufferable only added to her mood. “We were friends first.”

“Oh. Well that is certainly one way to reel them in.”

“Ah!” Cordoba interrupted. “It seems that dinner is about to be served. Shall we?”

He held his arm out for Miranda, and she, with a wicked smile towards her husband, happily accepted it.

“Yes!” she agreed. “We can continue with this lovely discussion over a fine meal.”

Heyes sighed. This dinner was going to take some diplomacy to get through unscathed.

Xxx

Fortunately the rest of the evening went by without any further altercations, despite Heyes being locked into a continuous conversation with Margaret Carruthers. It would not have been a problem, but he still found this lovely and energetic woman pleasing to his senses, so the fact that she continued to show interest in him, despite his wife sitting across from them, caused him some distress.

He could not help but be aware that Miranda spent the evening playfully flirting with the alcalde—and was hardly paying her husband any mind. That in itself had Hannibal concerned. Was she really attracted to the alcalde? He was after all, a handsome and debonair man, whom many women, including Clementine, had found irresistible.

But was Miranda really flirting with him? Seriously? Or was she simply getting back at her husband for allowing another woman to monopolize his time? And if that was the case, was she doing it out of spite and anger, or was she simply laughing at him, and playing with his emotions?

Knowing his wife as well as he did, he was 90% certain that she was laughing at him. But there was still that niggling little doubt that maybe she was angry, and he'd be getting an earful once the party was over. Not to mention a little less attention in bed than what he had anticipated.

Miranda felt her husband's eyes upon her, and she flashed him a wicked smile. Heyes relaxed. She was teasing him, and shamelessly, it would seem. But Senor Cordoba did not seem to mind the feminine attention, and though certainly not taking her overtures seriously, he did spend much of his evening in conversation with the lovely Senora Heyes.

Xxx

It was early morning, but the sun was up and the warm breeze coming in off the water promised another hot day. Hannibal had awakened even earlier than the sun and once the light of dawn and the high raucous calls of the sea birds wafted in through the open veranda doors, he simply could not stay in bed any longer. 

He quietly slipped out from beside Miranda and donning the light cotton clothing he'd taken to wearing during their stay he walked barefoot out onto the white stone deck. Resting his hands on the wrought iron fence that separated their patio from the coral sands of the beach, he stretched out his back and sucked in a huge lungful of ocean air.

It smelled so fresh and clean here. Those early years of living in San Francisco with Silky had been quite different from the free and easy atmosphere of the beaches here in Santa Marta. Nothing compared to the sights, sounds and smells that were stimulating his senses on this warm summer morning. Even though they'd been in town for a few days—and even spent the previous afternoon out on the water, the smell of the ocean here still caused his nose to tingle. The white gulls on high were circling and complaining loudly, as though he were the one responsible for their breakfasts, while the nullifying sounds of the gentle surf washed up upon the shore not more than twenty feet from where he stood.

He closed his eyes and smiled, taking in three more deep breaths of the salty ocean air and felt his body both relax and become invigorated. He became aware of so many sensations; the cool stone beneath his feet, the wrought iron already becoming warm to the touch with the morning sun. The soft breeze gently playing with his hair. The gulls screaming overhead; loud and yet somehow soothing as well.

“Senor?”

Heyes opened his eyes and smiled at the man standing on the sand in front of him. Heyes recognized him as one of the employees of the hotel.

“Good morning,” Heyes greeted him.

“Good morning, Senor. You arise early. Would you like me to bring breakfast to your room?”

“My wife is still asleep,” Heyes informed him quietly. “but some coffee here on the patio would be fine.”

“Si Senor. I will bring a carafe and two cups for when your senora awakens.” 

“Thank you.”

The man turned and actually began to run back along the beach towards the servant's entrance of the hotel. Heyes watched him and marvelled at his agility. He'd obviously spent his lifetime running barefoot through these sands as he handled the slippery footing with ease and made excellent time. Heyes hoped he didn't attempt to run back while carrying a tray with coffee and cups upon it.

He sat down in one of the two comfortable wicker chairs and brought his feet up to rest upon the small foot stool while he waited for his coffee. It did not take long for the waiter to return and coming through the small gate and onto the deck, he discreetly averted his eyes and turned his back upon the open door so as not to intrude upon the privacy of the room. He set the tray down on the small side table and picking up an earthenware jug, he looked enquiringly at their guest.

“Do you take cream, Senor?”

“Yes,” Heyes nodded. “a little.”

Cream was poured, then another enquiringly look. “Sugar?”

“No.”

Sugar bowl was set down, carafe picked up and coffee poured.

“Breakfast is being served until 10:00, Senor. You are welcome to join us down in  el restaurante, or have it brought to your room.”

“Thank you,” Heyes responded. “I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know.”

The waiter nodded and taking the empty tray with him, he stepped back down onto the sands and quietly disappeared.

Heyes sighed again in appreciation of his returned solitude and picking up the cup, he allowed himself to savour his first sip of morning coffee.

Relaxing into a serene state of being, he took another sip of coffee, and allowed his mind to wander. 

He remembered back all those years ago when he had been terrified of this. So afraid that the Kid would settle somewhere, take himself a wife and start a family, and Heyes would be alone. He didn't want a family. He wasn't capable of settling down. The wanderlust had him in its grip, and he couldn't imagine living life any other way. If Kid married and started a family, Heyes would have to move on—alone. He could see no other future for himself. And that scared him.

They'd come a long way, both him and Jed. They'd taken two different roads, but both had faced their own challenges and had needed the support of friends to help them through it. Heyes had to admit to himself that the road he had ended up on was not one he would have taken if he'd known the tribulations he would be facing. He would have run when he'd had the chance. Run out on their amnesty, run out on Lom. Maybe even run out on the Kid, in order to give him his own chance at amnesty, rather than face the road he had been forced down.

But if he had run, look at all these miracles he'd have missed out on.

If he hadn't gone to prison, then Sally would never have come into his life.

He would never have known Kenny, who, though more from a distance these days, had given him focus and something to latch onto as a way to give back.

David had saved both their lives and had also become a valued friend. Carol and Todd would probably still be living at the orphanage rather than having found a family to call their own. And Bridget would never have met Steven. Oh, and then there were Harry and Isabelle! Who would have thought? All of these things had happened, everything had rippled out from the core of that one violent unforeseen attack that had changed their lives forever. Now Heyes realized that it wasn't only his and Jed's lives that had been changed, but the lives of so many others as well. Old acquaintances and virtual strangers, all connecting and affecting one another.

Then there was the reconnection with Sister Julia, which had even taken him by surprise. And Dr. Slossom; what an amazing woman she was. All the things those two ladies had done to keep him going. True, if he hadn't been in prison he wouldn't have needed their support, but in needing them, he had come to value them, and allow his life to become richer for knowing them.

And Doc Morin. Oh Doc. A pinch of pain hit his heart when he thought of the Doc. All those nights of lying on his cot, staring up at a ceiling he couldn't see and wondering why this terrible fate had befallen him, pushing him to the very edge of destruction. Thinking back in retrospect, he wondered what he would have changed of those four and a half years, if he could have. Most things he would not have changed because of the good that had come from it; the people who had gathered around him, and kept him going; he valued those moments more now than he begrudged the hard times that had warranted them. 

But the Doc? Of all the bad things which had happened during this time, that was the only one he still wished he could change. If only Doc could still be at the prison, drinking his whiskey and driving Kenny crazy with his cursing and foul temper. Nothing good, as far as Heyes could see, had come out of Doc's death. Except, well maybe... Carson had been brought to task, and Mitchell too. Not to mention Harris. If Doc hadn't died would they even have been looking in that direction?

Doc' death, and the terrible nightmares that had followed it, were what had pushed Heyes to look beyond the obvious—to dig deeper for the answers. If Doc hadn't died, would Harris still be on the loose? Would Mitchell still be running the prison? Heyes groaned and mentally shook his head. This was getting too stressful, and he was here to relax and think good thoughts.

What other good things happened because of his prison time? Well, Abi for sure. And Anya. He and Abi would never have reconnected. He would never have known where she was, or how she truly felt about him, because he would never have made the effort to try and find her. He would have continued to push her back into the recesses of his memory because the pain of her rejection and apparent disdain was just too much for him to bear looking at. There was still no promise that he would ever have a relationship with Anya, but at least now he know that Abi still loved him, and that she would do her best for their daughter.

In his mind he had done the honourable thing and eventually forgiven her for pushing him away, his response to her unexpected arrival at the Double J had instantly proved otherwise. Far from forgiving her, he had simply stopped acknowledging her, and rather than letting go of the hurt, and the anger she had brought to him, he had buried it. Denied his love for her, and denied the daughters they had together in order to hold on to his own pride.

He realized in hindsight how foolish he had been, and how selfish. Prison had turned out to be a penance he had to pay for more than just his life of crime, for more than just his insufferable claim of entitlement to take anything he wanted because life somehow owed him. It had been a deal he'd made, wittingly or not; with the fates, with God, with the living spirit that connected all things together. With whatever it is you wished to call it; he'd made a deal.

Pay the price for his foolishness, his cruelty, his irresponsible behaviour, and he'd be given the opportunity to set things right. Whether or not he did, was left entirely up to him. He still could have turned his back on Abi and Anya, using his anger and his pain like a shield protecting his ego and his wounded heart. Or he could choose to let it all go, and embrace that which had hurt him the most; to take her in his arms and help her to also heal, simply by letting go of pride, and allowing her to help him make it back to the light.

His reward for that was Abi's love, and the knowledge that her love for him had always been there. That pushing him away, and knowing that he would despise her because of it, had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. That was her penance for daring to love him, but daring to love their daughter more. She accepted that fate, and would have carried the pain of it with her to the end of her days if he hadn't accepted his punishment.

And amazing Anya. Exhilarating and precocious. He smiled softly at the thought of her; of her dimpled smile and her dark brown eyes full of sparkle and mischief. His smile turned into a grin and then a quiet chuckle. If his four and a half years in prison were what bought him those few days with Anya, then the time had been well worth it. The paternal pride that had assaulted him upon the first viewing of that photograph had never left him. He would always feel pride in her; pride that he was her father and she his daughter, even if she wasn't ready to acknowledge that yet. She would in time.

Sweet, gentle Rebecca. The smile dropped from his face and a sadness pinched at his heart. Sitting there with his eyes closed and the aromatic ocean breeze gently caressing his hair, he could feel her in his arms. He could hear her cooing and laughing in that infectious, innocent way that only babies have, and his heart broke from the pain of love all over again.

And yet even the pain from that loss he saw now as another reward for his penance. To deny Abi meant denying Anya and Becky as well. The pain of Becky's death got shoved away along with the pain and anger of Abi's rejection, and that wasn't fair on any of them. To embrace one had finally allowed him to embrace all, and in doing so, finally being able to acknowledge and then let it go.

He'd never completely get over the pain of Becky's death, he knew that. He would always feel that ache of missing her, the regret that, as her father, he should have been able to save her. Just as Jed had felt the regret and impotent anger of not being able to save his first child. That was the role of the father, wasn't it? To provide and protect. It was instinct, it was primal. It could not be denied and therefore simply had to be accepted. Easier said than done, but still he had done it. With Anya's help, both he and Abi had been able to heal and move on to a more positive life.

Heyes was back to smiling again. He opened his eyes to the developing morning and took in another deep breath of air. He replenished his coffee cup and thought again about the pleasure that life was now giving to him. Or perhaps more appropriately, the pleasures that he had earned. How could he have been so afraid of this? Yes, he still had an itchy foot. He was never going to be a rancher or a banker or be able to work in an office—at least, not all the time. But that didn't mean he couldn't have roots in a community, that he couldn't marry and have a family.

His smile turned into a dimpled grin, made all the more noticeable now by the gradual addition of aging lines around his mouth. He didn't care. He was happier now than he'd ever been in his whole life. Looking back over the bumpy road that had brought him to this place, he again acknowledged that there was very little along the route that he would change. Everything was connected and it was what had brought him here.

A new baby on the way. Wow. Even though he'd fathered two children and was 'papa' to a third he knew that this forth time out was going to be a totally different experience. He was so looking forward to it, despite the occasional panic attacks that assailed him if he took the time to think about it all too deeply. After all, if Jed could do it, hey...everything was going to be fine.

He glanced over into the room when he heard the sounds of movement coming from the bed. Miranda rolled over and felt the empty space where her husband should have been. He heard her sigh deeply as though in resignation, that yet again, Hannibal was up with the birds and gone on an adventure. He waited patiently for her to become fully awake; and took that opportunity to appreciate the sensuous curves of her form underneath the thin cotton sheet.

He finally pulled his mind away from imagining her naked only to discover that he'd been found out. Her dark blue eyes were half open and giving him that dreamy bedroom look, while the corners of her lips were turned up in a knowing smile, as she silently laughed at him. He grinned like a little boy and raised his cup to her.

“Morning sleepy-head,” he said quietly. “Coffee's ready.”

Miranda closed her eyes and stretched, causing her husband to get distracted again.

“Hmm, coffee,” she moaned. “Sounds like a plan.”

She rose from the bed, and with Hannibal watching appreciatively she donned the white short sleeved blouse and colourful Mexican skirt she'd been wearing the day before. Heyes noted that she hadn't bothered with any undergarments as of yet, and he felt an instant arousal just knowing that there was nothing on underneath.

She stepped out onto the patio in her bare feet, and with a deep sigh, she sat down in the second wicker chair beside the little table.

“Oh, what a beautiful morning,” she commented contentedly as Han poured her a cup. “It's already so warm. What shall we do with the day?”

Heyes shrugged. “Let's just wait and see where the tide takes us. First on the agenda is breakfast.”

“But the beach is so lovely,” Miranda pointed out. “Let's go for a walk first, before it gets too hot. Then breakfast.”

“Alright.” Heyes was easy to please. “Have your coffee and we'll go for a walk.”

Xxx

Half an hour later found the couple walking barefoot through the surf along the warm sands of the private beach. This section was reserved for the hotel guests only—and was still quite empty, so the couple felt at liberty to relax and enjoy themselves. Heyes rolled up the cuffs of his white cotton trousers and Miranda, copying the wisdom of the native ladies had pulled the back hem of her skirt through her legs and tucked it into the loose fitting waistband at her belly button. Heyes liked the new look.

They walked hand in hand, the gentle surf coming in and lapping around their ankles and the sea birds screeching overhead. 

“This is such a beautiful place, Hannibal,” Miranda sighed as she gazed up at the gulls floating on the air. “It makes me want to stay here forever. No wonder you and Jed thought to retire here.”

“Hmm,” Heyes nodded. “I like this arrangement much better.” He brought his hand against the small of her back and slid it down to caress her free spirited rump. He turned in front of her, stopping her in her tracks, and took her into a passionate hug. He pulled her body to him, feeling her unhindered curves squishing up against him, and they kissed while the ocean breeze played gently with their clothing. “Hmm,” Heyes came up for air. “We should go back to the room.”

Miranda smiled up at him, feeling his interest peaking, knowing her playful antics were driving him to distraction—as was the intention.

“Yes,” she agreed. “But only to get our sandals.” She laughed at her husband's disappointed look. “I'm eating for two now, remember. I'm hungry!” Just to prove the point, her stomach grumbled loudly and she laughed even harder. “See?”

Heyes grimaced. “How romantic.”

“C'mon,” she said as she pulled away from his embrace and took his hand once again. “Let's go back. I need to eat!”

Heyes smiled as he allowed himself to be tugged back toward their room. “And here I thought I'd left the Kid back in Colorado.”

Xxx

Back on their patio, the couple laughed and played together as they brushed wet sand off of their calves and ankles and in between their toes. That done, they moved into their suite, and while Hannibal poured water into the wash basin for shaving, Miranda slipped into their own private lavatory to complete her own toiletry.

“Hannibal?” Miranda called to him from the other room. “Shall we order breakfast to be brought here, or do you want to go down to the restaurant?”

“Let's go down to the restaurant,” Heyes suggested as he scraped away under his chin—and then added in a mumble more to himself than his wife. “If we have it here it'll never get eaten.”

“What was that?”

“We'll go to the restaurant!”

“Okay. How do I look?”

Miranda twirled herself into the room and sent her husband a playfully seductive look. She had tied her long dark hair up into a bouncing pony tail and had stuck one of those floral hair pins onto the side of her locks to add even more colour to her attire. She had also released the hem of her colourful skirt so that it floated gracefully down around her ankles with every step she took.

Heyes smiled and wiped his face clean from excess shaving cream.

“You look like a bowl full of fruit,” he commented, then quickly added to avoid the rising assault; “but fruit that I could spend the rest of the morning eating my fill of.”

He moved in to reach for her waist, but she playfully jumped away from him.

“Oh no, you don't!” she laughed at him. “You might be able to get by on 'fruit' for breakfast, but I need food! C'mon, let's go.”

She opened the inside door to the hallway just as Hannibal held out a hand to stop her.

“No, wait!” he told her. “Haven't you forgotten something?”

Miranda looked confused for a moment. “What?” Then enlightenment dawned and her eyes lit up as she ran back into the suite. “You're right! My sandals!” She stooped over by the bed, grabbed her sandals and quickly slipped them on. “Can't go to breakfast in bare feet!”

“No, not that!” Heyes protested as he quickly slipped on his own sandals.

Miranda turned back to face him. “What then?”

Heyes lowered his voice. “The way you're dressed,” he reminded her. “You're not..decent.”

Miranda looked insulted. “Not decent!?”

“Miranda you're not wearing any.....any undergarments.”

She smiled at him deliciously, a Hannibal Heyes twinkle in her eye. “I know. Isn't it naughty?” and with a laugh, she turned and ran down the hallway.

Heyes stood at their door, his mouth gaping and a groan coming to his lips. “Oh, you wicked woman.”

Xxx

The hotel restaurant was open and airy for the breakfast crowd, not that it was very crowded now, as most of the other guests had already broken their fast. The morning was heating up with every passing moment, but with the verandas all open to the sea breeze, it was still quite comfortable to sit and enjoy the morning break. 

At least until the host approached the couple, and Heyes positioned himself to stand a little ahead of his wife, in an attempt to hide her 'nakedness' from prying eyes. He was feeling protective and territorial, so wouldn't hesitate to stand his ground, if any of the other men in the vicinity gave him reason.

The host simply smiled and escorted the couple to their table. He had stopped trying to understand Gringos years ago. He could appreciate a caballero protecting his senora, especially when the lady was as attractive as this one. But surely he did not expect to be challenged here, in the breakfast room.

Heyes followed behind the host, his arm wrapped around his wife's waist to let it be known that she was his female, and the other males better not even think about moving in on his territory.

“Hannibal, don't be so silly,” Miranda reprimanded him. “Nobody's looking at us—unless it's to wonder at your odd behaviour. Nobody can tell.”

“Of course they can tell,” Heyes whispered in her ear. “How can they not tell? I can tell! Everything is loose and...bouncy.”

“You can tell only because you know I'm...naked underneath.”

“Shhh!” Heyes was at his wits end, and he wondered how he was going to get through breakfast when he himself was anything but loose and bouncy. And he'd thought that coming to the restaurant for breakfast would be safer! “Sit down and stay sitting down.”

“Yes sir,” she teased him shamelessly.

“Here are your menus, Senor and Senora,” their host stated casually. “Shall I bring you coffee to start?”

“Yes please,” Heyes agreed. “Lots of coffee.”

“Si Senor,”

“Oh my,” Miranda sat back and fanned herself with the menu. “No wonder the women here don't wear corsets. They'd suffocate. Aren't you getting warm, Hannibal?”

“Yes,” Heyes stated pointedly. “You're doing this on purpose, because of last night.”

“Of course I am,” she admitted, sumptuously. “You were enjoying that woman's company far too much.” And unbuttoning the top two buttons of her light blouse, she leaned forward to give her husband an unobstructed view of 'the girls'. 

Heyes' eyes instantly went there. He sighed deeply, the breath suddenly gone from his lungs.

“Yes, well...” he whispered as he drank in the view. “she is an attractive woman.”

“Funny,” Miranda commented as she straightened up again. “I found her to be decidedly annoying.” 

Heyes blinked as though coming out of a trance and forced his gaze upwards to look into his wife's eyes instead. She smiled at him, and he couldn't help but chuckle, and the chuckle grew into an outright laugh. He reached over, and taking her hand he lifted it to his lips and kissed it.

“I love you,” he whispered to her. “but you are an fiendish woman.” 

Coffee arrived, and the couple sat back to receive the brown elixir of life. The waiter smiled discreetly, took their breakfast orders and retreated. Silence ensued as they each prepared their drinks to their tastes and took a first sip.

Miranda licked her moistened lips and smiled softly at her husband. Heyes' brow went up. She wasn't done yet, she was going to make him pay.

“I'm fiendish, am I?” she asked him, taking another sip of coffee. “With all the dalliances you've had in your lifetime? Maybe we need to compare notes.”

“Oh,” Heyes smirked playfully as he rose to the bait. “I'd only make you jealous.”

“Really? I'm intrigued,” Randi leaned forward, her breasts threatening to fall out of her partially opened blouse. “Why don't we begin with Mrs. Carruthers? Obviously you two have history.”

Heyes bit into his lip, his eyes once again drawn to below his wife's neck line. He did a quick scan of their immediate area and was relieved to note that no one was watching them. Indeed, their table was situated in the back, beside a large pillar so they had as much privacy as could be expected in a public restaurant. Heyes wondered briefly if his wife had somehow arranged this.

“No,” he answered her. “Nothing like that.”

“Oh come, Hannibal! The way you two were flirting?”

“We weren't flirting,” he insisted. “And besides, you seemed to be having a good evening yourself.”

She smiled. “Yes. Senor Cordoba is an extremely handsome man. And since you were preoccupied...”

Heyes sighed. 

“Nothing happened between us,” Heyes repeated. “We were on the same coach from Yuma, and she was a pleasant distraction for the trip. I had other things on my mind, if you recall. It was the Kid's life on the line. I continued to court the lady's attention in Santa Marta because I had begun to suspect her motives. Turns out, I was right.”

“Well that was boring,” Randa pouted. “Come on, tell me of some of your exploits. What about when you and Jed were still outlaws? You must have had some interesting encounters then...”

“Randa, this is hardly the time and place...”

Miranda shrugged.

“Interesting conversation over breakfast,” she stated. “What's wrong with that?”

Breakfast arrived. The waiter placed the laden plates in front of them, and again, discreetly removed himself from the conversation.

“Eat,” Heyes ordered, as he cut into his own meat and took a mouthful.

“Well, I already know you're good at that,” Randa commented, and her husband stopped chewing and sent her a nasty look. “Who was the first lady you did that to?”

“Randa!” Heyes just about choked on his mouthful. “What's gotten into you?”

“You,” she stated bluntly, then smiled sweetly. “Isn't it becoming obvious? And you're suppose to be so smart. We're in Mexico, it's our honeymoon. A wife has a right to know.”

Heyes swallowed. He sat back in his chair, took a sip of coffee and smiled at his love over the lip of his cup.

“Alright,” he agreed as he sat forward again and dug into his breakfast. “If you really want to know.”

Miranda nodded playfully. “Yes.”

“Okay. The first woman I...enjoyed...a meal with...was a prostitute named Lindy. I was sixteen. She was my first.”

“How sweet,” Randa commented. “A prostitute.”

Heyes sent her a look.

“Kind of hard to have a real relationship when you're drifting,” he reminded her. “I had a steady girlfriend or two while at Silky's place.”

“Or two?” she teased. “He allowed that?”

“No,” Heyes admitted and then smiled. “I'd sneak out at night and meet her down at the docks. “Often Jed came with me. He was a natural. He usually had more than one girl lining up for their turn.” he chuckled with reminiscence. “Actually, often they didn't bother to line up and we both had more than one to deal with at a time. That was interesting. Those girls from the wrong side of the tracks sure didn't have any inhibitions.”

“Really?” Miranda's brows went up. “You mean, you and Jed would have a group? All in one room?”

“Well,” Heyes shrugged. “It's not like we were all in the same hay pile. Believe me, we both had our own hands so full, we didn't have time to pay attention to what the other one was doing.”

“And your regular girlfriend didn't mind this?”

Heyes snorted. “Mind? They were her friends! She's the one who brought them.”

“My, my.” Miranda squirmed slightly as she tried to eat her breakfast. 

Heyes grinned at her discomfort. 

“It seems her friends didn't believe her when she told them of my exploits,” he bragged. “She had to bring them along so they could experience it for themselves.”

Miranda laughed, and almost snorted her coffee.

“And Jed had his own little harem, as well?”

Heyes nodded. “Uh huh.” He became thoughtful. “After that, let's see...things kind of dried up for a while. I was on the move, just barely scraping out a living. When I had enough money for a prostitute, I'd indulge, but it wasn't very often. No, it wasn't until after I got in with a gang and had a bit more stability, that I was getting anything regular. Yeah. After we'd make a big haul, Plummer would set us loose in the whore house, and we'd really go to town. There's nothing quite like watching a pretty little lady standing naked above you, on a swing. Quite the view.”

Miranda's eyes bulged, and this time, she did snort her coffee. Heyes grinned wickedly.

“Oh my goodness!” Randa whispered. “I think I've wet myself.”

“Serves you right,” her husband commented. “Now, where was I? Oh yes, swinging from the chandeliers. Those were fun days.”

“Did you ever bring ladies up to your hideout?” Miranda asked, once she'd gotten herself composed.

“Yup,” Heyes nodded. “Sometimes, Frank Plummer would bring up the whole lot of them. Of course, we each had our favourites. Yeah. I remember this one little girl, her name was Gilda. Wow. She couldn't have been more than fifteen, but she had everything where it counted, and man! Was she flexible. And she must have liked me too, because she let me have anything I wanted.”

“Really?” Miranda asked, her eyes alight with her own imagination. “What did you do?”

Heyes picked up one of his sausages, and stabbing it into the yoke of an egg, he stirred it around before lifting the dripping end and slowly licking the yellow off the piece of meat. He smiled as his wife wiggled in anticipation—and then stuffed the whole thing into his mouth and began to chew. 

“Everything,” he mumbled with a lustful sigh. 

Miranda forked one of her own sausages and began to nibble on it, as her eyes pleaded with her husband to continue.

“Me on top, her on top, back to front, upside down. On the table, on the swing, on the bannister. I was pretty flexible too, back then. I don't think we ever used the bed. We even did it on horseback once...or was that twice?”

“Oh come on!” Miranda challenged him. “How in the world could you do it on horseback?”

Heyes shrugged. 

“We found a way,” he said. “It was getting a little too crowded in the bunkhouse. We checked all the other outbuildings, even the outhouse, but other fellas had beat me to them. Even the barn was busy. I saddled up my horse, thinking we could ride out to a quiet spot and have some time in private. Couldn't have been more than twenty minutes from the hideout, and Gilda decided she didn't want to wait any longer. She was sitting behind me on that horse, but that didn't stop her. She reached around in front and began to do things that was no end distracting.  
“It's a good thing that ole' horse had an idea as to where she was going to take us, because I lost track. Gilda had my trousers undone in no time flat, and ohh, she was doing things to me...” 

Heyes stopped—and took in a deep breath. Miranda held a forkful of egg halfway to her mouth as she got caught up in the details. Her own breathing was beginning to quicken. Heyes smiled to himself and got ready to go for the kill.

“Next thing I know, Gilda, monkey that she was, grabbed onto the saddle horn and swung herself around so she ended up sitting backward, on that horse's neck, with her legs spread and her feet resting on my thighs. How she stayed on there, I have no idea. But she sure did. I think I dropped the reins, but that mare just kept trotting along. Well Gilda, that little vixen, wasn't wearing anything underneath her skirt, much like you today, and she hiked that skirt up around her waist, giving me a full view of her bushy little hole. I took her then. I couldn't help it. I grabbed her under the thighs and heaving her up, I plunged right into her.”

Miranda sat mesmerized, her eggs going cold as the rest of her heated up. Heyes leaned forward, his eyes glistening with excitement.

“I didn't care if I hurt her, you see. Well, cause, I wasn't the gentleman then, that I am now. Nope, I dug right in, and that gal, why she wrapped her legs around my waist and started to laugh, among other things. That ole' mare got into the swing of things and picked up the pace, giving us a good hard trot. I went with the flow, leaning into that gal, and probably pushing her against the saddle horn, but she didn't seem to care. She was laughing, and I was pumping, and the next thing we know that mare starts to gallop, and we're pounding each other!”

Miranda was grasping the sides of the table by this time, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her eyes were wide with embarrassment as she began to squirm.

“Oh my...!” she breathed, hardly believing what was happening. “Oh my goodness! OH!...Oh!!”

Heyes sat back and smiled.

“Something wrong, Darlin'?”

“Oh my...”

Randa guiltily looked around the room to assure herself that no one had witnessed her episode. Only then did she allow herself to relax, and sit back in her chair.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled as her breathing slowly returned to normal. “It's going to be awkward getting back to our room now.”

“Hmm,” Heyes commented as he took a sip of coffee. “Anyway, that's pretty much the highlight. We still partook of prostitutes at Devil's Hole, but Jim never allowed women up to the hideout. So...” he shrugged. “Then it was Abi, and you already know that story.”

Miranda took a deep breath, as everything settled again.

“Oh my goodness,” she said. “Where is that waiter? I think I need more coffee.”

Heyes looked around, and catching the waiter's eye, held up his coffee cup.

“Si Senor,” the waiter smiled, ready to be of service. “More coffee for you?”

“Please,” said Heyes. “For both of us.”

“Of course.” The waiter noted that the breakfast plates were still laden, so he left without them, but was soon back with the coffee pot. “Are you enjoying your breakfast, Senor.”

“Best I've had in a long time,” Heyes agreed.

“Senora?”

“Amazingly good,” Miranda informed him, and began to laugh.

The waiter smiled as he poured their coffees, not sure what was meant by these comments, considering they did not appear to be eating much of the meals. When in doubt, especially with these Gringos, simply nod and retreat. And he did.

Miranda took a deep satisfying drink from her coffee, and her nerves began to settle down.

“You made that up,” she accused him, her previous playful mood returning. “I don't believe a single word. You'd hurt yourself, doing that!”

“What can I tell you? We were young.”

Miranda still looked sceptical.

“Fine, if you insist,” she relented. “So, then there was Abi.”

“Yes.”

“And Allie.”

“No. I told you. Nothing ever happened between me and Allie,” Heyes insisted. “She was too young.”

“Oh, and your little trollop in San Francisco wasn't?”

“That was different.”

“How?”

Heyes sighed. “Semantics,” he clarified. “Allie was too young, emotionally. Deanna was...very mature.”

“So, you mean to tell me, that after you became this infamous, handsome and romantic outlaw, the only women you could get to lay with you were prostitutes?”

“No!” Heyes was insulted.

Miranda looked the enquiry as she nibbled on her toast.

Heyes' expression turned inwards, and he smiled with fond recollection.

“Well, there was Julia,” he said. “She was sweet. We started out under the boughs of a big old tree, but we ended up inside a cave, with the sound of water dripping all around us. It was chilly in there, and damp. Bunch of dead Indians all over the place. But, ohh that proper English lady knew how to heat things up.   
“Grace, oh but she was kind of a cold fish, and it was more part of a job, than anything more. Still, I'll never look at a blackjack table the same way again.” He grinned, and his dimples dug in deep. “Ahh Leslie! What a firecracker. That water tower creaked and groaned, but it stayed up. Yeah. The hardest part was climbing down afterwards. Then of course, there was Amy. Ah, not the Amy you know. No. This one was a brunette. Now her I could have settled down with for awhile, but as it was...” he shrugged. “I wonder if she ever got those stains out of that bookcase...”

 

“Oh come on!” Miranda was doubly sceptical now. “You're making all this up.”

“Nope,” Heyes insisted. “Why, all those lovely ladies couldn't wait to show me their virtues. See how blessed you are?”

Miranda snorted.

“Oh, I almost forgot about Blanche,” Heyes continued, enjoying the roll he was on. “She was interesting, and a little bit dangerous.”

“Really.” Miranda cocked a sceptical brow. “And what made Blanche so dangerous?”

“She'd murdered her husband,” Heyes explained. “Cleaned out the estate and disappeared down here, into Mexico. The family knew she had done it, and when they eventually found out where she was, they hired us to entice her back across the border.” He shrugged. “I had to get her to trust me, or at least to think that I trusted her.”

“So this woman, who had murdered her husband, and was safe and sound in Mexico, risked everything by coming back into the States—for you?”

“No, not exactly,” Heyes admitted. “It was dangling $20,000 under her nose that did it.”

Miranda's jaw dropped in surprise. 

“You told her who you and Jed were?”

“Hmm, we hinted,” Heyes clarified. “We set the bait, and she grabbed at it.”

“So she actually followed you back up, across the border?”

“Yep.”

“Hmm,” Miranda sat back and frowned. “That wasn't very gentlemanly; bedding a woman in order to trap her.”

“She bedded me, in a sense, knowing her true intentions were to turn me in for the reward money,” Heyes pointed out. “I have no qualms about that. Besides, it gave us some real fond memories of that saloon she briefly owned. Surprising what uses you can find for a spigot, once you put your mind to it.”

“What a ham!” she accused him. “Is there anything out there you haven't tried?”

“Well, yes,” Heyes admitted. “A couple of the fellas in prison had some suggestions, but I let them know I wasn't interested.”

Miranda frowned, her playfulness disappearing.

“Eww, really?” she asked. “I hadn't thought of that. But, I suppose, under the circumstances...”

She sighed deeply and partook of another calming drink of coffee.

“Yeah well,” Heyes continued, watching his wife, and timing his remark perfectly. “under the circumstances, I'd rather make love to myself. At least I knew I could trust the person holding onto my merchandise.”

Miranda was caught by surprise. She snorted, laughed, choked and then snorted again, as coffee squirted from her nose. She grabbed her napkin and quickly tried to stem the flow.

“You rat!” she exclaimed once she had her breath back. “You did that on purpose!”

“You were asking for it,” Heyes accused her, and then his dimples took over. “Besides, you always catch me flatfooted. It was time I got you back.”

Xxx

It seemed to take forever to get back to their room. Hannibal had his hand placed in the small of Miranda's back, and was pushing her along until her walk quickened, and her loose breasts bounced deliciously underneath the light summer material. She was laughing as they turned the corner, and seeing a clear access to their room door down at the end of the hall, she broke into a run.

Hannibal came after her, trying to run despite his erection—and also trying to dig out the key to their room so they could get to their privacy that much quicker. When Heyes arrived there, Miranda's eyes and cheeks were alight with her arousal, and he fumbled with the key.

“Damn!” he cursed in a whisper. “I could normally open this door without a key, now I can't even get the damn thing in the hole.”

Miranda bit playfully into her lower lip, and sending a quick glance down the hall to make sure they were still alone, she leaned in and caressed his groin.

“As long as you don't have that problem once we get inside,” she breathed into his ear.

“Dammit!” Heyes cursed once more as he fumbled the key again, and it fell to the floor.

“Do you want me to hold it for you?” Miranda asked as her grip on his groin tightened.

“No!” 

Heyes pushed her hand away and made a dive for the key. Straightening up, he finally inserted the object into the keyhole and pushed open their door. They tumbled into the room, laughing and kissing one another as Heyes gave the door a kick and slammed it shut. He noticed that their veranda doors were uncovered, and people were walking along the beach outside the window. He extricated himself from his wife and quickly moved over to the double doors, and pulled the curtains over to hide their upcoming activities.

When he turned back around, Miranda had gone through his baggage and had retrieved one of his belts that had still been looped through his heavier trousers. She smiled at him with a wild glint in her eye, and bit seductively into her lower lip. Heyes felt his temperature rise. She had such lovely lips.

“Do you trust me?” she asked innocently.

He smiled suspiciously.

“You are being outrageous today. What do you have in mind?”

She grinned and motioned over to one of the chairs that was set next to the small lunch table.

“Have a seat,” she cooed. “and I'll show you.”

Heyes narrowed his eyes. He felt an instance of hesitation as memories of his encounter with Marion flashed to the surface. He had avoided this position ever since then, afraid that it might ruin the mood. But now, seeing his wife standing there, all loose and sumptuous, the only thing he felt was a rising excitement.

“Alright,” he agreed, breathlessly, vividly imagining numerous possible uses for the belt she held. “I'll play.”

He came over and dutifully sat down. Miranda stepped behind him, and looping the end of the belt around one of his hands, she pulled it back.

“Hey, what are you doing?” the now nervous husband asked. He knew that this was one of those many uses his wife could have had in mind, but now that they were down to it, he found that he still didn't like the idea of being tied up.

“Relax, you coward,” Miranda whispered, and ran her tongue down the back of his neck.

He felt his spine tingle, and in the instant of his distraction, Miranda pulled back his other hand and had them both snugly tied behind the back of the chair. Heyes sat and waited, not too patiently, to see what his wife had up her bloomers. Oh, wait a minute. She wasn't wearing any bloomers.

Coming around to stand in front of him, she leaned in to give him a kiss as she rubbed her hand up and down against his groin. He shifted uncomfortably, wanting to bring his arms around her and pull her into him. He groaned in frustration at having allowed himself to be bound the way he was. The sexual scent of her accidental orgasm was driving him to distraction, and more and more, he was aware of her nakedness under the flimsy material.

She straightened up, her legs touching his knees, and slowly raised her hands to remove the floral pin from her hair. The pony tail unfurled, and her dark locks cascaded down to nestle about her shoulders. Making sure she had his attention, she took the bottom hem of her blouse and slowly pulled the material up to reveal her round, full bosom. She pulled the garment off, over her head, and tossed it to the side.

Heyes could feel his breathing start to quicken, and he yearned to squeeze those breasts and pinch those wonderful nipples. Miranda was enjoying torturing him. Her own hands came up and began to do what his hands were craving to do themselves. She cupped her own breasts and began to massage them and to play with the nipples until they changed colour and stood out from the flesh like mini torpedoes on the hunt.

“What are you doing to me?” he groaned, as his eyes drank in her plump, juicy cushions.

“I want to make you want me, more than you have ever wanted any other woman,” she cooed as she agonizingly played with those nipples, and her womanly scent intensified.

Heyes sighed deeply as he thought how close she already was to her goal. 

She leaned over him, bringing those intriguing orbs close, setting them up to dangle enticingly, in front of his eyes, then with one hand on the back of the chair, she used the other to play with herself shamelessly. Her girls rose up and down with her increased heart rate as she brought them in close, tempting him to strike. And strike he did. With one quick snatch and grab, he had the nipple in his mouth, and bit down on it just hard enough that she couldn't pull it free.

“Oww! That hurts,” she whimpered, but he only grinned, showing his teeth clamping down even harder. “Oh, you devil,” she told him. “You've got me now.”

He sucked her in deeper until he had a mouthful, and every time she tried to pull away, he bit in and held her tight. The pain only served to increase her arousal, wanting him to take her, but not wanting to relinquish control just yet. She held his head, encouraging him to suckle upon her as she felt her body continuing to heat up and throb.

She knew her own arousal was setting him off even more, but she was going to continue to antagonize him for a while. Who knew when she would ever get him into such a vulnerable position again? Finally forcing herself to pull away from his lovely mouth, she threw a leg over his lap and settled down on his knees as she slowly began to undo the first two buttons of his light cotton shirt. In the heat of the Mexican day, he wasn't wearing a henley, so within seconds he was bare chested. She pushed the material off his shoulders and down his arms and let it sit there, limiting his movements even more.

He tried to shrug the shirt all the way down, his muscles in his arms and across his chest, straining against the confinement. She stopped him with a shake of her head. Leaning in, she kissed him, and as she nibbled his chin she felt her own pumped nipples brushing against his skin. He groaned, wanting to bring his hands up to squeeze that glorious flesh, but his shirt and the binding belt wouldn't let him. Miranda smiled and tortured him further, pressing her breasts into his and driving him crazy.

He squirmed with erotic discomfort and began to thrust, even though he was still contained within his trousers. This woman was driving him mad. His muscles strained and a shirt button gave way, pinging its way into the air—and bouncing across the floor. Miranda knew she'd better be quick, or he was going to work himself loose, and she didn't want that. Not yet. 

Within seconds she had the restraints to his lower region unbuttoned, and the object of her desires escaped its confinement. Sliding back and easing herself down onto the floor, she tugged his trouser all the way down to his ankles and pulled them, one leg at a time, off his body. Sending him a wicked smile as she saw and heard his breathing increase, she spread his legs apart and had a full, unhindered view of his erection and its two buddies. What a gorgeous man he was, sitting there, strapped down in all his erotic glory. Naked, but for the strained material stretching across his sweating torso, he was the epitome of maleness, and she ached for him.

He shifted slightly, tugging against the belt that held his hands down, wanting to release them, yet at the same time wallowing in the excitement that the bondage created. They had both seen the other naked on many occasions, but this open disregard for his privacy left him feeling thrillingly violated. His teeth started to chatter in anticipation as he sat there, with his wife's eyes staring directly at his full package. For the first time, he felt truly naked in front of her. His breathing picked up even more, and caught in his throat, as she smiled her appreciation. The fact that she liked what she saw pleased him no end.

Looking at him never got old. He was beautiful. Pushing his knees apart even more, she moved in between them and slowly began to caress his flesh. Her warm hands massaged and stroked every inch of his inner thighs, yet she refused to touch that throbbing part of him that wanted it the most. Her hands slowly made their way towards his phallus, and just as he anticipated her fingers wrapping around him, she leaned forward and blew softly on the head, watched it quiver with desire, and then she'd retreat once again.

He groaned out loud.

“Please...”

She smiled seductively.

“Are you sure?” she whispered coyly, as her hands again lingered close, but didn't touch.

“Yes!”

“Are you sure, you're sure?”

“Miranda!”

“Alright. If you're sure.”

Deliberately dropping her gaze again, she gently slid her hand between his thighs and began to slowly massage those lovely soft, hard balls. 

He gasped at her touch, and a part of him wanted to pull his hands free and take her, but another part of him was so much under her control that he couldn't move. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as the painful pleasure overwhelmed him. How was she doing it? He was so close to coming, he was sure he was going to burst, yet she never let him get to that point. She took him to his extreme limit and then eased off, denying him the release that was craving to come forth.

She leaned forward, pressing his penis against the warm skin between her breasts, encasing it, tormenting it. He was vaguely aware of her tongue playing with the hairs on his chest. She teased him with it, making the tip of her tongue hard and probing as she slid down his middle hair line. She circled around his belly button, and then, much to his surprise, she dipped into that orifice, and a whole new sensation knifed through him. He tried again to disencumber himself from the now loosening binding, but Miranda was faster, and she denied him. His body jerked and squirmed with the erotic pain that travelled down from his belly button and stabbed into his genitals. He couldn't believe the sensitivity of that insignificant little button, yet Miranda continued to dig into it with her tongue and played mercilessly with the hard nob that was nestled inside.

Just as he was about to scream, she relented, and running her tongue down, she played in the pubic hair until she tickled her way around to the base of his penis. Circling it she kept her tongue a hard point as she slowly brought it up the shaft, played with the head for a moment, then settled her mouth down and over it. The hand that wasn't full of his sack encircled the base, and she began to massage him from the top and the bottom.

He could barely breathe. He was going to cum, he knew it. He couldn't stop it, and she wasn't backing off this time. Did she know what was going to happen? Of course, she knew! Was she actually willing to do that? Heyes tried to hold back, thought he should push her away but his loosened hands were so busy clutching the back rim of the chair, they weren't listening to his brain.

Miranda sucked on him and pumped harder at his base. She knew he was helpless, and she kept pushing him, sucking harder and harder, and faster and faster, until finally he gave a strangled yell, and with buttons flying, he burst forth inside her mouth. She didn't pull back but continued to suck on him and pump harder as his orgasm took over his body, and he began to thrust into her despite the stray thought that this wasn't appropriate; this was what you paid a prostitute for. Apparently his wife didn't agree.

Finally his thrusting eased, and he started to breathe again, though it was ragged and gasping. Miranda eased up on her torture of him, and rising, she lifted her skirt high up on her thighs, but not high enough for him to see her, and opening herself up, she sat astride his lap. Embracing him with an erotic kiss, she felt his hunger suck at the exotic juices that still lingered in her mouth, felt her tongue being striped of its moisture as his sexual essence swirled within their combined breath.

He was helpless in her arms, and trembling from the exertion. But his shaft, though in rest mode, was not done yet. That clever creature seemed to know that her warm and open puss was right there, beckoning to it, taunting it. Hannibal could feel the heat of her vaginal lips brushing against him, and his wrung out penis blinked and took notice. The bull became animated again, sniffing the air, and rising up to follow the scent, it craved to sink its head into that audacious snatch, and force it to beg for mercy. 

But Miranda wasn't ready to relinquish control just yet. She continued to kiss him, rubbing her breasts and her bush against him, and he felt the throbbing intensify. He couldn't believe it! Usually he needed a moment to recuperate, but Miranda wasn't giving it to him, and his body rallied gloriously and stood up to the challenge.

Within seconds he was completely hard again. Miranda leaned back slightly, pulling her skirt back that little bit more, to reveal her gift to his hungry gaze. She rubbed herself against his penis until he trembled, and then she took him in hand and finally settled herself onto him. She pushed herself down until she had all of him inside her, and then she pushed down even more. Heyes had finally loosened the belt enough, and freeing up his left arm, he brought it over to encircle his tormentor and pull her in close.

His right hand, still with the belt end looped around it, came free, and snaked around her shoulders, pushing her down just as he thrust into her as deeply and as hard as he could. She gasped with the intense pleasures of it, and like a wild animal, she grabbed hold, and biting into his chin, she held on as the outlaw in him ravaged her. 

Still not satisfied with his level of penetration in his desire to get even, his grip around her body tightened, and he stood up. Bringing her up with him, still impaled upon his hook, he leaned her back onto the table and dug in like it was Thanksgiving dinner.

Xxx

Two naked bodies lay desecrated and spent upon the battlefield that was the bed. Hannibal sat with his back resting against the headboard, his junior partner lying limp and exhausted within its nest of pubic hair. Miranda was lying flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling but without really seeing it. All three seemed to be in a state of shock.

That was the wildest romp they'd ever had. Better than their wedding night, knowing that Sally was probably awake in her new room, just down the hall. Better than when Hannibal had returned from tracking Karma's lineage, and he was still anxious of causing harm to the new pregnancy. Granted, he had eventually relaxed, so that had turned into a lusty romp too, but this one had put it to shame. Wow.

“We should probably get up,” Heyes mumbled as he didn't move.

“Hmm,” came the unenthusiastic response.

“I think it's getting close to dinner time.”

“Hmm.”

Xxx

Situated at the northernmost tip of the Sea of Cortez, the resort town of Santa Marta was protected from the unpredictable winds and harsher tropical storms that the open ocean would have sent their way. This made the location ideal as a resort town, and it hadn't taken long before wealthy Americanos had found their way South to enjoy what the town had to offer.

Keeping that in mind, it should not have come as a surprise to Heyes, that someone not of Mexican decent, scooted around the mariachi player, in order to approach Heyes with the inevitable question.

“Excuse me,” the extremely young man politely intruded on their supper. “I don't wish to be rude, but I just had to take this opportunity as it presented itself.”

Heyes instantly felt ornery at another male entering into the zone of his scantily clad wife, while Miranda smiled cheekily at her husband's discomfort. Fortunately, Randa had purchased more than one outfit suitable for the warm coastal evenings, but this one was even more revealing than the previous one had been. Heyes, still feeling brutish after their highly sexual afternoon, glanced up at the intruder, ready to do battle, until he encountered a look of total innocence and awe. He stared into the eyes of this young man who was not yet into his twentieth year and obviously embarrassed at intruding upon them, yet determined, as he had said, to take advantage of an unexpected opportunity.

“You're Mr. Heyes aren't you?” the boy asked nervously. “Hannibal Heyes?”

Heyes gave a resigned sigh and locked gazes with his wife. Miranda smiled and shrugged. Obviously, even here in Mexico, they couldn't get away from her husband's infamous past.

“What can I do for you, son?” Heyes asked, trying to sound polite.

“Oh no, nothing,” the 'son' assured the ex-outlaw and sent a nervous smile and nod to Miranda. “Ma'am.”

Randa smiled back at him, accepting the greeting, and the young man's eyes returned to his true focus.

“I just wanted to come over and meet you officially,” he continued, almost wringing his hands. “You see, I've seen you before, ah on a train. Though I didn't know who you were at the time, and I'm sure you don't remember me.”

Inwardly, Heyes sighed with boredom. Another passenger on a train they'd robbed. Though this young man would have been just a boy at the time.

“Yes, I'm sorry,” Heyes came out with the usual disclaimer. “We stopped so many trains, I really don't remember....”

“Oh, no no,” the young man corrected him. “This wasn't a train you stopped, Mr. Heyes. You see, I was just a young lad at the time, and I was travelling to Wyoming with my parents, when you were brought on board in chains...”

The young man's voice trailed off while the blood drained from Heyes' face He stared up at the intruder, his mouth slightly agape in his astonishment.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Heyes,” the man instantly backed off. “I shouldn't have....I just didn't think....I'm sorry. I shouldn't have intruded. Ma'am.” He tipped his head to Miranda and prepared to retreat.

“No no,” Heyes stood up, catching him by the arm and stopping him from leaving. “No, that's fine. You took me by surprise, that's all.” Heyes shook his hand before the man could take in what was happening. “You already know my name. What's yours?”

“Umm, Nathaniel, Mr. Heyes,” he responded. “Nathaniel Brenner.”

“Oh, well. Nice to meet you. This is my wife, Miranda.” Heyes introduced her. “Are you here on your own? Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Um yes, I have eaten,” Nathaniel admitted. “I'm actually here with my parents. My father has business in town, so we came with him to enjoy the sights. That's them over there.”

He sent a vague gesture over towards another table where a middle-aged couple were sitting and intently watching the proceedings.

“Ah.” Heyes nodded a greeting to them. “Would they mind if you sat and joined us for a few moments?”

“Oh!” Nathan smiled, feeling very honoured. “No sir, they won't mind.”

“Good. Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Heyes beckoned the waiter and another cup and carafe soon put in an appearance.

“So,” Heyes coughed slightly. “Ahh, I actually do remember you,” he admitted. “In fact, you left quite an impression on me.”

Nathan gave a sardonic laugh. “I'm sure,” he said. “I'm sorry about that. It was very rude. But I was just a boy, and it was my first train ride. Still, it was bad manners, pointing my toy gun at you like that. As if you didn't have enough worries. You looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You didn't need some child playing games at a time like that. My mother was always telling me it was bad manners, but you know what children can be like.”

Heyes grinned. “Yeah. But I didn't mind.”

“It was so amazing,” Nathan continued. “You were like a larger than life character stepping out of a dime novel. I didn't know who you were at that time, but I was certain you had to be someone dangerous to be shackled the way you were, with all those lawmen and guns surrounding you. For a boy of ten it was simply the thrill of a lifetime. I never forgot it.  
“I remember; none of my friends believed me. They were sure I was making it all up. I was too young to know anything about the trials or what happened to you after that. My parents knew about it, but if they connected that incident on the train with the trials of two notorious outlaws, they never mentioned anything to me about it. Probably thought I was too young.  
“But I just wanted to tell you, Mr. Heyes, that incident changed my life. It inspired me. After that my interest in 'the Wild West' grew beyond that of even the most imaginative child. I started reading everything I could about western lore; about the lawmen and the outlaw bands of old Wyoming and Montana.  
“Even at that, it was a few years before I connected the exploits of the Devil's Hole Gang with the man I saw being brought on board that train in chains. But then I started putting it all together. The date and location of your arrest. The manner of your transportation to Wyoming. The time of your trial. It all worked. It all fell into place, and suddenly I knew beyond a doubt, that the man I'd seen that night had been none other than Hannibal Heyes himself.   
“As soon as I realized that, I knew I would meet up with you again some day. I had to. I had to let you know how seeing you that night changed my life. The history of the West has become my passion and I've already been accepted into college back East to study Western History. Actually that's another reason why we're here; to have one more family vacation before I head back East in the fall.”

“Really?” Heyes commented dryly. “Suddenly, I'm feeling old. I'd never thought of myself as being a part of western history.”

“Oh,” Nathan looked worried, thinking that perhaps he had insulted his hero.

“No, that's alright,” Heyes quickly assured him. “I'm pleased to hear that some good things came from that journey. Actually, in the long run, more than I would ever have thought possible.” And he smiled over at his wife.

“Yessir,” Nathan agreed, though not fully understanding Heyes' meaning. “I was very happy to hear about your parole, Mr. Heyes. When I was old enough to understand the sentence that had been given to you, I could hardly believe it.”

“Tell me about it,” Heyes grumbled, but then smiled to soften the comment. “But thanks to good friends, things have all worked out. I'm married now, as you know. And have a family. I also have a number of business opportunities on the go, so life is pretty good.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Nathan said, then bit his lower lip and stared into his coffee cup. Heyes and Miranda exchanged a smile, knowing the signs of something more to come. “That kind of brings up my next question,” the young man continued, hesitantly. “You see, I was hoping that...if you wouldn't mind...since meeting you in the first place is what sent me on my life's path...if I could use your story as my thesis...”

“What...?” Once again Heyes was stopped in his tracks.

Miranda covered a smile with her hand, but her dancing eyes laughed at her husband as he scrambled to find his footing.

“Yessir...I mean if you wouldn't mind,” Nathan was on a roll now. “To be able to come full circle like that. To start my thesis from the time of your arrest, and my actually being there on that train, all the way through your years in prison, and then to how your life moves on after that. It would be an amazing thesis—probably the best one from my year. And if I knew I could count on your support, why, I could start on it right away. I'd already have my topic picked out and be ahead of the game before I even start classes. I have a number of years to write it, of course, but it can't hurt to get started on the research early on. I doubt there would be any problem with this topic being acceptable as my thesis, and nobody else would even be able to come close to having something...”

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Heyes put up his hands in surrender. “You mean you want to write your thesis—your Master's Degree in Western History, with me as your topic?”

“Yes.” Nathan looked at Heyes as though that should be obvious. 

Heyes sighed and sat back in his chair, feeling slightly stunned.

“You always claimed to be the best,” Miranda pointed out as she continued to laugh at him.

“Well I know, but...”

“You were the best,” Nathan supported the claim. “You still are the best. Anyone who studies the Wyoming outlaws knows that.”

Heyes grinned triumphantly at his wife. “See. I am the best.”

Miranda gave a most un-lady-like snort and placed a hand on Nathan's arm. “You realize he already has a swelled head,” she told the young man. “Now he's going to be completely insufferable.”

Heyes was grinning from ear to ear. “Just wait until I tell the Kid.”

“Does that mean, you agree?” Nathan was hardly allowing himself to believe. “You're willing to do it?”

“I'm all for furthering a young man's education,” Heyes told him, then sent his wife a quick look when she no longer even tried to hide her amusement. 

“That's great!” Nathan was suddenly all animated. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I hardly dared to hope...”

“Would you and your folks care to join us for breakfast in the morning?” Heyes asked him. “We can discuss the details and get better acquainted.”

“Yessir,” Nathan agreed. “I'm sure we can do that.”

“Okay,” Heyes stood up with the young man and shook his hand again. “See you back here around 8:00.”

“Yessir!”

Heyes sat back down and sent an innocent look over to his wife.

“What?” he asked of the look that was sent his way.

“You're loving this!” she accused him. “'All for furthering a young man's education'! My naked backside—you're lapping this up!”

Heyes grinned. “Speaking of your naked backside...”

Xxx

That evening, Hannibal and Miranda sat outside on their veranda, enjoying an after dinner drink while watching the sun go down.

“Why did the waiter ask if you wanted a worm in your bottle of tequila?” Miranda asked, as they sat together, holding hands.

Heyes smiled.

“It's tradition,” he informed her. “In the tavernas in town, they wouldn't even ask. To serve tequila, without a live worm in the bottle, would be an insult.”

“Argh!” Miranda grimaced. “I suppose it's a matter of male pride as to who gets to swallow the thing?”

“Of course.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. Men were such strange creatures.

“Well,” Miranda settled into her chair with a contented smile and took a sip of her white wine. “Junior and I are quite happy to do without the worm.”

Heyes squeezed her hand. 

“Me too.”

They sat that way for some time, looking out over the ocean, and watching the changing colors gradually take it over. Miranda had never felt so contented. The sun sank, its bright reflection leaking out over the waves as the sky went from bright blues, to oranges and reds and then to purples. They didn't even notice the higher sky darkening as evening overtook the seascape, and before long, stars started to twinkle and the ocean air took on a slight chill.

“It's so beautiful,” Miranda murmured. “So peaceful on the surface. Who would think there was so much drama going on under the waves? What an incredible experience that was. William never wanted to do things like that.” She squeezed Hannibal's hand, and gave it a gentle shake until he glanced over at her. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” he returned. “And I thank you as well.”

“For what?” she asked.

“Oh...well, let's see...for taking the hand of a man who was a broken wretch, who was lost and beyond hope. And for smiling at him. For loving me, and yet still being willing to be my friend. For backing off and giving me room to find myself. For accepting me. For marrying me. For tolerating my previous lovers. For accepting my children, Sally and Anya. For accepting my seed, and nurturing our child. Thank you for being my wife.”

Miranda's throat tightened on her, and for a few moments, she couldn't answer. She turned away and watched the bright stars twinkle and become brighter as the night sky darkened. Tears formed in her eye, which she tried to hide, because she never did go for that mushy, sentimental nonsense. She sniffed, and Hannibal smiled over at her through the darkness, and it was his turn to squeeze her hand.

“I love you,” he said.

Miranda nodded and took a deep breath to get control of her emotions.

“I love you too,” she told him. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me. And look; as a monument to our happiness, here comes the moon.”

They both looked out to the hidden horizon, and sure enough, a bright full moon was on the rise, taking its turn to spread its luminous reflection upon the gentle waves. The sound of those waves, gently washing up upon the soft sand, combined with the ambiance of the ocean air, added to this surreal evening of Hannibal and Miranda Heyes, sitting on a beach in Santa Marta, Mexico, having a drink. 

Xxx

The next morning, Heyes and Miranda entered the open-air restaurant, in anticipation of breakfast.

“Table for two, Senor?”

“Ah, no,” Heyes told him, as he scanned the occupied tables. “We're actually meeting...oh, there he is.”

The host turned—and noticed a young man in the far corner, stand up and wave to the new arrivals.  
He smiled as he picked up two menus and led the couple over to the table in question.

Nathan, who was still standing, reached out his hand to shake Heyes'.

“Good morning,” he said, hardly containing his excitement at seeing his hero again. “Please, sit down.”

“Don't rush the man, Nathan,” the father told his son, and he stood up to shake hands as well. “Good morning. I'm Carl Brennan, this is my wife Chloe.”

“How do you do,” Heyes smiled and shook hands. “Han Heyes, and my wife, Miranda.”

“Please, do sit down,” Carl invited them. “Coffee?”

“Oh yes!” Heyes accepted enthusiastically.

“Yes, thank you,” Miranda agreed, and smiled at her own husband's level of excitement.

Nathan sat down himself—and with eyes sparkling, darted looks back and forth between Heyes and his father. He was oh so hopeful that they would get along. They were, after all, of similar ages, so surely they would connect on some level. Heyes smiled, recognizing the discomfort of the couple sitting across from him. He turned on his charm and took control of the conversation.

“I understand that your son is leaving for school soon,” Heyes began. “and that he wants to write about me in his thesis.”

“Ah, yes,” Carl agreed. “That is you, isn't it?” he continued, not really sure if he wanted to be in the company of the infamous outlaw. But his son had been so excited at the chance meeting the day before, that he couldn't refuse the invitation. “You are Hannibal Heyes?”

Heyes grinned. “Yes, Mr. Brenner. I'm Hannibal Heyes.”

Both Carl and Chloe took deep breaths and sat back in their chairs.

“Oh my goodness,” Chloe breathed. “Oh, our apologizes, Mr. Heyes. When Nathan here said that he recognized you, we thought for sure that he was mistaken. You simply don't look like an outlaw.”

“Yes,” Heyes commented. “I have been told that before. Unfortunately the State of Wyoming knew better.”

“Yes,” Carl agreed, and the mood sobered. “I'm sorry we didn't recognize you. We didn't see you come on board the train that night. I suppose my wife and I were asleep.”

Heyes nodded. “Most of the passengers were. I think that was part of the plan. The fewer people awake to recognize me, the less confusion and likelihood of a confrontation. Morrison had everything planned down to smallest detail.”

“Morrison?” Chloe asked.

“The sheriff who arrested him, Ma,” Nathan put in. “You remember, the big, mean-looking man.”

“Oh yes,” Chloe recalled. “I'm sorry, Mr. Heyes. As my husband said, we didn't realize you were sitting behind us, and it wasn't until you were taken off the train that we paid any attention to you at all. One couldn't help but notice though, as they were leading you past us. All those guns, and chains. Heavens! One would have thought that you were some kind of notorious criminal.”

Heyes and Miranda both stopped half way through a coffee sip, and stared at the woman sitting across from them. Nathan rolled his eyes.

“He was a notorious criminal, Ma!” the young man reminded her. “That's why I want to write my thesis on his life and career.”

“Oh! Yes, of course. Oh look, here's the waiter to take our orders!”

Xxx

Despite awkward first impressions, the meeting ended up settling into a pleasant conversation. Chloe Brenner's initial anxiety, over meeting this 'outlaw', quickly melted away, once she had a taste of his charm and casual wit. The lovely Miranda was also easy to talk to, and her presence helped to dispel any qualms that the Brenners' might have had over their son's choice of topic. 

“I must admit,” Carl stated, once breakfast was done and they were sitting back with another round of coffee. “my wife and I were rather concerned with our son's infatuation with the criminal element in the West, and with you in particular, even though he didn't understand who you were at the time. That encounter on the train was enough to set his imagination on fire, and he wouldn't let up on it. We tried to keep all information about you, away from him. But I'm afraid he's too bright a lad for that. I hope you understand. We were afraid that once he connected the outlaw, Hannibal Heyes, with the man on the train, that he would put you up on a pedestal, and that he might perhaps try to follow in your footsteps.”

Heyes glanced over at Nathan—and found that young man avoiding his eyes, and looking painfully embarrassed by his father's admittance.

“I understand,” Heyes assured the father. “But as you say, Nathan here is an extremely intelligent young man, and I'm sure he realizes that no outlaw deserves to be put on a pedestal. And he certainly doesn't deserve to be emulated. Isn't that right, Nathan?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Heyes. My interest is purely academic.”

“But,” Chloe quietly put in. “from what our son has told us about you, you are also a very intelligent man, and yet, you chose that life for yourself.”

Miranda smiled, and gently placed her hand on her husband's knee. She knew these types of comments were difficult for him. It was one thing to have made mistakes, but quite another to be constantly reminded of them.

Heyes took a deep breath.

“Yes,” he agreed. “And I paid dearly for it. More dearly than you'll know.” Then he smiled and looked over at Nathan then returned his gaze to the parents. “Although, perhaps you will come to know. If your son and I are going to collaborate on this venture, I suppose I will have to divulge all.”

“I hope so,” Nathan responded emphatically. “If not, then what would be the point?”

“Exactly,” Heyes agreed. “And on that note, how do you intend to proceed?”

“Well,” Nathan bit reflectively into his lower lip. “Once I get to school, I will start gathering information about you right away. Although, I probably already have most of it. But I will get it in order, and try to fill in gaps. Then, when school breaks for the spring, I would like to meet up with you and confirm the information I have. But I would really like you to fill in the gaps. You know, the personal things, the things that don't go into the newspaper articles, or on prison records. You know what I mean?”

“Yes, I know,” Heyes agreed. “And if your parents are agreed, you're welcome to come stay with us next summer. It's going to be a busy household, but I can't think of a better way for you to get to know us.”

“Oh,” Nathan perked up, then cast a glance over to Miranda. “Is that alright with you, ma'am?” he asked her.

Miranda sighed—and sent her husband an arched look. A little heads-up would have been appreciated.

“I'm sure we'll manage,” she commented. “The Jordans have plenty of room, if our place get's too busy for you.”

“Too busy?” Nathan asked. 

Hannibal and Miranda smiled at each other, the love between them shining for all to see.

“We have a nine year old daughter,” Miranda explained. “She's very unusual.”

“But sweet,” Hannibal added. “I'm sure you'll get along with her fine.”

“Nine years old?” Chloe asked, confused. The numbers weren't adding up.

“She's adopted,” Heyes clarified, feeling that he might as well get used to divulging their personal history. He had a feeling that once Nathan started to dig, he wasn't going to get away with hiding anything. “I did some talks at the orphanage near the prison while I was incarcerated. Sally was one of the children in the care of the Sisters there. Once I gained my release, and Miranda and I decided to wed, we adopted her.”

“Oh how sweet!” Chloe gushed. “What a blessing to you both.”

“We are also expecting another child to be joining us in February,” Miranda disclosed. “And since we have yet to meet this one, we have no idea what to expect.”

Carl arched a brow.

“Another child?” he asked. “From the same orphanage?”

Again, a pleased glance passed between the expectant couple. Chloe gasped as the full meaning hit her between the eyes.

“Oh my!”

“What?” asked Carl.

“Oh Carl! Don't be so obtuse,” his wife reprimanded him. “They're...well, she's...she's...in the family way.”

“In the family...? Oh! Harrumph. Oh I see. Well, congratulations, Mr. Heyes. Yes. Err, well done.”

“Thank you,” Heyes accepted the awkward compliment in the spirit it was given. “It's going to be an experience.”

“Yes!” Chloe agreed emphatically. “And quite an eye-opener for you, young man.”

“Me!?” Nathan looked surprised at having been singled out.

“Yes,” his mother continued. “This will give you first-hand experience of what it's like to have a family, before you go making that decision for yourself.”

“Oh, Ma,” Nathan cringed. “I'm too busy for that.”

The mother smiled and nodded her head knowingly. Young men are never too busy for that.

Heyes gave his throaty chuckled, and Miranda smiled, pleased that everyone was getting along. It bode well for next summer.

“So!” Carl suddenly announced. “It seems we have everything worked out then.”

“Yes,” Heyes agreed, then reached into his shirt pocket and extracted a folded piece of paper. “Here, Nathan. This is my address in Colorado, just in case you need to get in touch for anything. Either a telegram or a letter, it'll reach me here.”

Nathan accepted it, though showed some concern.

“Is there no telephone in your town?” he asked, hopefully.

“Telephone,” Heyes repeated. “Ahh, no.” And sent an enquiring glace to his wife.

Miranda shrugged.

“I don't think so,” she confirmed. “Unless one was installed while we've been away.”

“I highly doubt that,” Heyes gave his opinion. “Especially with everything else that's been going on up there this month. No time to be putting in telephones. Although, perhaps by next summer, we might just have one in town.”

“Yes,” Carl commented dryly. “They are quite the thing. I predict that soon all towns will have at least one telephone available. It's changing the whole world of communications.”

“Hmm,” Heyes grumbled. “Makes it pretty hard to get away with anything, anymore.”

Miranda laughed and gave him a slap on the arm.

“Hannibal!”

“What?”

Xxx

“Senor Cordoba,” Heyes extended his hand for shaking. “Thank you for for making our stay in your town a pleasant one. I'm sure we'll be back again, sometime. Perhaps when our children are older, and can join us.”

“Of course,” Cordoba agreed pleasantly. “It would be an honor to meet them. Senora,” and again, he took her hand and gave a slight bow in farewell. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your journey.”

“I'm sure we will, Senor Cordoba,” she responded. “But Santa Marta is such a lovely town, it's hard to leave.”

“You are always welcome to come back,” Cordoba assured her. “I'm sure we will still be here.”

“Thank you.”

“Goodbye.”

Cordoba turned and walked away to carry on with his day, and Miranda smiled appreciatively at the fine figure of the retreating male. 

Heyes cocked a brow at her.

“I think it's time we boarded the stage.”

“Yes!” Miranda agreed. “The driver was just finishing loading up the luggage when I came in to get you. We should be off.”

“Oh, good heavens! Yes. We don't want to miss this stage again.”

Miranda took her husband's arm as they hastily retreated from the stage depot and approached the waiting stage itself. 

“The only thing I don't understand,” Miranda continued. “Is why are we taking the coach back to Yuma? Isn't that asking for trouble?”

“Not as much trouble as travelling by coach through the Mexican border towns,” Heyes pointed out. “All border towns can be rough, but the ones south of the border are downright dangerous. Don't worry, we'll only be in Yuma overnight, then we'll catch the train going East to Red Rock.”

“If you say so,” Miranda commented dubiously. “Personally, I think I'd rather face the Mexican banditos than come head to head with Shandal again.”

Heyes smiled as he opened the coach door for his wife to step in.

“Don't worry,” he assured her. “The chances of running into anyone we don't want to, in the short time we'll be there, are next to...none...”

Heyes had just sat down beside his wife, and the words that had been streaming out of his mouth came to a grinding halt. The young lady sitting across from them—caught her breath with delight, and her eyes sparkled with laughter.

“Miranda!” Lois exclaimed, excitedly. “How wonderful to see you! I almost didn't recognize you in your local costume. My, but the colors do suit you! Don't they suit her, Cedric? I thought we'd missed you during our stay in Santa Marta! I would have thought that in such a small town, we would have met up eventually—but no! We must have always just been missing one another. But no matter. Now we get to spend the whole day in the coach, riding back to Yuma together! We can tell one another all about our adventures.”

“Oh.” Miranda finally got her voice back. “Lois. How lovely. Cedric.”

Cedric didn't say anything. He and Hannibal had locked eyes, and neither one was anticipating an enjoyable journey back up to Yuma.

 

To Be Continued


	11. Setting it Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Miranda encounter some previous antagonists during their short visit back in Yuma.
> 
> Beth and Bridget do their best to help Isabelle prepare for her wedding day.

Brookswood

 

Jesse stirred quietly in his sleep. Dream state was leaving him, and he knew that he was slowly coming back into the world of the awake. He was ready for it. He was tired of laying around in bed all day, and only getting to sleep because David have him a sleeping draft. A man shouldn't need a sedative in order to sleep at night. A good day's work and a sound mind were all one needed, and Jesse was ready to get back to that routine.

That is, until he rose further up into consciousness, and his body felt like it was still attached to the mattress and was refusing to move. He sighed and felt a tingling of disappointment over the reality of his situation. He didn't like the idea of being an invalid, even if it was just temporary, but even in his foggy state of mind, he knew it was going to be some time before he would be mobile again.

He shifted a little bit, and felt the restriction of bandages making movement difficult and in some areas, impossible, so he gave up the effort. He lay still, allowing wakefulness to come, in its own time. He knew he was still feeling the effects of the pain killers and sedatives, but that didn't prevent him from feeling rather than hearing, the presence of someone beside him. Was it Belle? A quick sniff of the air informed him that it was not, plus his own senses were telling him that the presence was a small one, that took up little space in the dynamics of the room.

He moved his good arm just a touch, but couldn't detect anyone leaning on the bed, although he could still feel their eyes upon him. The gaze was intense, willing him to wake up and respond to its presence. He couldn't help himself. He was awake now anyway, so he slowly turned his head towards the pull and sleepily opened his eyes.

The sight that greeted him, made him smile. His honorary granddaughter was kneeling beside the bed, her face leaning close to his and her large brown eyes staring at him intently. As soon as she realized that her grandpa had awakened and was focused on her, her face split into a joyous grin, and her hands came up from where they had been resting on her knees, and she touched his arm.

“Hi Grandpa,” she whispered excitedly. “I didn't wake you, did I?”

“No, Sweetheart,” he lied convincingly. “you didn't.”

“How do you feel today?”

“I don't know yet,” he told her, then grimaced at the soreness in his throat.

“Oh.” Sally looked disappointed. “Will you know in time for the wedding?”

Jesse tried to clear his thoughts. “Wedding?”

“Yes!” Sally answered, surprised that her grandpa didn't remember. He knew everything. “Mr. Briscoe and Miss Baird are getting married.”

“That's right,” Jesse agreed, hoarsely, his throat feeling raw, and his mind foggy. “I had forgotten about that.”

“You can't forget about that!” Sally scolded him. “Miss Baird wants you to give her away.”

“Is that right?” Jesse asked, though knowing in himself, that wasn't about to happen. “What about her own father? Doesn't she want her father to have that privilege?”

“Oh no,” Sally shook her head, very serious now with her knowledge. “Miss Baird doesn't want anything more to do with him, or her brothers.”

Jesse frowned. He suspected that there was strife in the family—and that Baird wasn't above harsh discipline, but Isabelle had put up with this abusive treatment for years. What had happened to cause this rift so close to the wedding? It wasn't as though Baird disapproved of it, on the contrary, he'd been hoping to marry off his daughter for the last ten years, and he didn't seem to care much who it was that came courting.

Feeling slightly put out that her grandpa hadn't taken the bait and instantly askinf for more information, Sally took it upon herself to fill him in.

“Miss Baird and her papa had a fight in town a couple of days ago, and Miss Baird refused to go home with him,” Sally rattled on. “She has been staying at the hotel with Auntie Bridget, and all those other ladies.” she pouted, feeling left out. “They don't want me there. Only 'adult' ladies are allowed. Aunty Bridget says they have 'lady things' to discuss, and I'm too young.” Heavy sigh. “I guess they're planning the wedding. I don't see why I can't help with that. It's not fair.” Another heavy sigh. “Anyway, yesterday afternoon, Emmett Baird drove their buckboard in to town, and right there on Main Street, he dumped Miss Isabelle's chest onto the ground, along with a bunch of other things, and then he drove away and left everything right there for everyone to see.

“Miss Isabelle was really embarrassed, because the chest had broken open and many of her undergarments, and night dresses had fallen out.” Here Sally couldn't help but giggle, but she covered her mouth with her hand and quickly regained her composure. “Many of the older ladies, like Auntie Bridget and Auntie Beth helped her to collect her things, and even some of the men came to help carry the the chest over to the hotel.”

Sally's expression took on a look of sad confusion. “But then Miss Isabelle started crying when one of the loose boxes came open and everything inside it fell to the ground. I heard later from Auntie Bridget and Auntie Beth talking about it, that it was her mother's wedding dress. But the material had been burned and there wasn't much left of it but sooty material and some beads. It must have gotten burned in the fire. Perhaps Mr. Baird thought that Miss Isabelle might want to have the dress anyway? Maybe he was trying to say that he was sorry, maybe?”

Jesse's mouth tightened in anger as his granddaughter's innocent rendition carried through to its finale. That bastard, Baird! He'd burned his wife's wedding dress to prevent his daughter from wearing it at her own wedding. And not only to prevent her from wearing it, but to slap her in the face with it. What in the world had happened to set him off like that?

“Are you alright, Grandpa?” Sally asked, suddenly full of concern. She didn't see her grandfather angry very often, so when she did see it, it tended to frighten her. “Are you angry at me? What did I do?”

Jesse instantly relaxed, remembering that there was a young and very impressionable child in the room with him. He forced himself to smile and gave her a little hand a gentle squeeze.

“No, no, I'm alright,” he quietly assured her. “You haven't done anything wrong. Is your grandma here?”

Right in cue, a gentle knocking sounded on the bedroom door, and Belle pushed it open just enough to peek inside.

“I thought I heard your voice,” she said. “Sally didn't wake you, did she?”

“No,” Jesse assured her. “I was already waking up on my own.”

“Good,” Belle smiled. “She asked if she could come in and sit with you for a while, and she promised not to disturb you. I have noticed that Sally is good about keeping her promises, so I let her.”

Sally grinned at the compliment and confirmed what had already been established.

“I was very quiet,” she stated, with an air of importance. “I didn't even lean on the bed.”

“You were very good about that,” Jesse agreed. “You didn't make a sound.”

“Off you go now, Sally,” Belle told her. “Your supper is waiting for you.”

“Yes, Grandma,” she agreed, and on her way up to her feet, she gave her grandpa a quick kiss on the cheek. “Love you Grandpa. I'm so glad you're feeling better.” And with that, she skedaddled out of the room and headed to the kitchen table.

The two grandparents chuckled, and Belle closed the door, before pulling a chair over and sitting down next to her husband.

Jesse turned a serious eye to his wife. “What happened?” he asked. “Sally said that Isabelle and her father had a row.”

Belle sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I'll say,” she conceded. “It was quite a scene. It took Joe, Jed and Harry to get Mr. Baird to see reason and back down. Unfortunately, he doesn't take well to losing, and he's pretty much disowned poor Isabelle.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Jesse groaned. “What started it off?”

“I don't know,” Belle admitted. “Something about the wedding being called off. But it's not. Everything is going ahead. You should see our daughters getting in there and planning everything. They seem quite determined to see this wedding happen.” She stopped and chuckled. “Perhaps they just want to see Isabelle off and finally married. Whatever the case, nothing's going to stop it now.”

“Not even Baird burning his wife's wedding dress?”

Belle sobered at that reminder, but then she smiled sweetly and shook her head.

“No,” she said. “Not even that. The girls offered up my wedding dress for Isabelle to wear, and Sam even brought it into town. Everything will be fine.”

“You don't mind?” Jesse asked her. “I mean, that someone other than our daughters will be wearing your dress at their wedding?”

“No!” Belle insisted. “Of course not. A wedding dress is supposed to be passed around. And after what her father did to her, well, it's the least I can do. We're not giving it to her, after all. It will remain in our family so if our granddaughters want to wear it at their weddings, it'll be here for them. Although, I expect it will be quite out of date by the time those young ladies are ready to be brides. In the mean time, we'll make sure Isabelle has a wedding worthy of any young lady.”

“Well,” Jesse shifted to get more comfortable. “I hope she does better with Briscoe than she did with that father of hers. No woman deserves two tyrants in her life.”

“I think Harry is going to shape up to be a fine husband,” Belle assure him, with a smile. “He certainly came to her rescue, when she needed it the other day.”

“I hope so.”

“You're looking better today,” Belle noticed. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “I'm thirsty. I'd like to get up, but...”

Belle frowned and shook her head.

“No,” she stated quite frankly, as she turned to the night stand, and poured out a glass of water. “You can't even sit up yet, so don't even try.”

Jesse groaned. “I know. Maybe I'll just go back to sleep...”

“Let me try to get some water down your throat, at least,” Belle requested. “I'll hold your head up a little bit, and you can use a straw.”

Jesse nodded. He was thirsty, and his throat burned. Still, his eyes were growing heavy and the fogginess of his brain was closing in once again. He felt himself starting to drift off. His eyes came open again as Belle gently shook his good arm.

“Where are you going?” she asked gently as she sat down beside the bed agan. “I thought you were thirsty. David said we should try to get you to eat as well, if you were at all interested.”

“Is David here?” Jesse mumbled as Belle gently lifted his head from the pillow and offered him the straw. “If he's not here, I see no reason to have to listen to his hen pecking.”

Belle laughed. “No he's not here, but I still have to listen to his hen-pecking. He left me in charge of you, you know. I will not be found remiss.”

“Hmm,” was all Jesse got out as he took the straw between his lips and sucked in some of the precious liquid. He coughed and sputtered a little, but then the moisture eased his raw throat, and he was able to take in a few sips. “Where is he?” he asked as he settled back into the pillow. “Another patient...?”

“Don't you remember?” Belle said as she set the glass of water back on the night stand. “He and Steven had to make a run down to Yuma.”

“Oh yes,” Jesse nodded. “They've left already?”

“They left three days ago,” Belle informed him. “We're actually expecting them home the day after tomorrow.”

“Three days ago?” Jesse mumbled softly, though his astonishment came through loud and clear. “I couldn't have been sleeping that much, even with that sedative.”

“We really didn't need to give you a lot of sedative,” Belle teased him. “and you still slept that long. Your body needs it, and you are looking better today.”

“How long does he think I'll be laid up like this?” Jesse asked, as he lie, with eyes closed.

Belle was relieved that he wasn't looking at her, as she was sure her expression held the bad news.

“He didn't really say,” she told him, and hoped that would suffice. “You'll know when you're ready.”

Jesse nodded silently, as his head settled deeper into the pillow, and he drifted off to sleep. 

Belle sighed, and gave her husband's shoulder a gentle squeeze as she stood up. So much for getting any broth into him.

Xxx

Later that evening, Jed was on his way from the saloon to Heyes' house, when his eyes beheld a curious sight. Wheat and Ames were at either end of a stretcher and carrying it down the middle of the street towards the train station. Leading the way was Mary Mullin, determinedly walking, with head held high, like a figurehead on a man-o-war battle ship. Everyone was stepping out of her way, giving room for the procession to pass by.

Beside the stretcher walked Louise Boulton, one hand resting gently upon the arm of the stretcher's passenger, and the other holding her hanky up to her face in an effort to hide the persistent tears. Following in the wake of this group, came Dale Boulton, carrying two bags of luggage, along with a brave face.

Jed feared the worst, that young Ben Boulton had perished from his injuries. He changed direction and hurried his step to intercept the procession. He took some relief from the fact that Ben's bandage-wrapped body was only covered to his shoulders, and that a supportive pillow had been placed under his head for comfort. Still, the young man was unconscious and looked pale and haggard underneath the burns on his face.

“Hey Wheat, where you goin'?” Jed called to get his friend's attention.

Wheat glanced his way, but didn't slow down.

“Ole Doc Mullin decided at the last minute ta' send Ben here to the hospital in Denver,” Wheat explained, a little peevishly. “Hell, I don't mind gettin' him and his loaded onto the train, but did it have ta' be right in the middle of our supper? We were hungry, weren't we Ames?”

“Yeah,” Ames agreed. “Actually, I'm still hungry. I bet Kyle's gonna eat all my share.”

“You got that right,” Wheat grumbled. “Even with his hands all bandaged up, that little runt can go through a steak like a dog at Christmas. Damn! If we don't hurry up, he'll probably eat mine too. Damn!”

This last expletive had been preceded by the train, loudly whistling its intent to depart the depot within short notice. Mary quickened the pace, and Wheat followed along, giving the stretcher a solid tug to encourage Ames to keep up.

“Hey!” Ames yelped as he was suddenly yanked forward and had to scramble to keep his feet. “Jeez, Wheat. Do ya' want me ta' drop this dang thing?”

“Aw, quit your gripin'!” Wheat hollered back at him. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back to our steak suppers!”

“He must be doin' poorly, if Doc Mullin has decided ta' send 'im to Denver,” Jed commented. 

“He didn't tell us,” Wheat responded. “You can ask his wife up there, but good luck gettin' her ta' slow down. That woman's on a mission.”

Jed nodded, then stepped out of line to allow the party to carry on without him. He contemplated his own supper that was probably waiting for him, but decided that his curiosity needed feeding more than his stomach at that moment. Changing direction, he headed over towards John's house in the hopes of getting more information out of that worthy gentleman. It would give him a chance to check up on Kenny as well.

It was a drained looking Doc Mullin who opened the door in response to Jed's knocking. Jed instantly felt fear tingle down his spine at the information the doctor might be giving him.

“Oh, Jed,” John greeted him with a tired smile. “Yes, come in.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Jed stepped over the threshold, taking off his hat as he came in. “How's he doin'?”

“Much better,” John told him. “Since his wife is in town, I expect I can let him leave here under her care, come morning.”  
“Oh, you mean Kenny. Yeah that's good,” Jed responded after an instant of confusion. “But I was actually asking about Ben.”

John's shoulders slumped. and he shook his head.

“I don't know,” he admitted, sadly. “He's going to need a lot of care. More than I have the strength for now, and with David away, I felt it best to send him along to the hospital in Denver. I hope they can help him. Mary and Ben's mother are doing the journey with him, though Mary will return in a couple of days. I can only hope we don't have any more serious casualties before David gets back.”

“Yeah,” Jed mumbled, as he thought about the cost of a hospital and how that was going to affect the Boulton's ranch. He sure would hate to see them lose their place over this. “Ah, can I go back and see Kenny?”

“Sure,” John told him. “His wife left an hour ago, so I'm sure he could do with the company.”

Jed made his way down to the familiar room and knocked on the door.

“Hey Ken, you awake?”

“Oh thank goodness! Company!” came the irritated and husky voice from inside the room. “Yes, come in.”

Jed smiled as he pushed open the door and made his way over to the extra chair.

“I guess I don't need to ask how you're doin',” he observed. “Ready to leave, are you?”

Kenny rolled his eyes.

“Please,” he grumbled. “I've never envied my wife so much as when she left here earlier this evening. I'd even prefer going back to work, over lying in this bed for another day.”

“Doc said you can leave in the morning,” Jed assured him. “One more night won't kill ya.”

“Hmm.”

“If it makes ya' feel any better, Jesse's gonna be laid up a whole lot longer than a couple of days,” Jed pointed out. “He got broke up pretty bad. But, at least he's alive.”

Kenny sobered a bit with that information. 

“Yes, you're right,” he admitted. “I shouldn't be complaining. Does David think he'll make a full recovery”?

Jed shrugged. “Maybe. We'll just have to wait and see.”

“Yeah.” Kenny was quiet for a second, then made an attempt to lighten the mood again. “How are the wedding plans going?”

“Oh ho!” Jed laughed. “I swear, every female in town is gettin' involved with that shindig. Givin' 'em somethin' else to focus on, I suppose.”

“And Harry? Any signs of cold feet?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Jed admitted. “He's gotten over it though. Extenuatin' circumstances helped him ta' see reason.”

“Oh?” Kenny asked. “Her father threaten to beat him up?”

“Nope. He started beatin' up Isabelle.”

Kenny bolted upright in the bed.

“What!?”

“Yep,” Jed confirmed. “right out there in front of the mercantile. Took me, Harry and Joe to break it up and make that old coot see reason. Even then, Isabelle ain't welcome home again, and she's stayin' at the hotel with Bridget. Gotta say though, Harry really came through. I don't think he's gonna walk out on her now.”

“Better not,” Kenny stated. “The laws have got to change concerning violence within families. I've got fellas in Laramie, doing time for things that don't even come close to what a husband and a father can get away with. It's not right.”

“Yeah,” Jed contemplated his own situation. “I remember, me and Heyes took a job a while back. A rancher's wife had run off, and he hired us to find her and to bring her back, if'n she was willin'. It paid good money if we found her, but even better if we got her to go back to him. Ole' Heyes really had to use his silver tongue to convince her, but he finally did. Thing is, she left him in the first place 'cause he was a mean drunk. Beat her black and blue every time he got to drinkin', until she couldn't stand it anymore.  
“At the time, we saw nothin' wrong with pressuring her to go back to that situation. Her husband said that it was just over a disagreement, and she'd run off, half cocked. He figured she was just too proud to come back without an invite. He seemed an amiable enough fella, and he was payin' good money, so we agreed.   
“Turns out, maybe she had good reason to leave. I've thought back on that time occasionally, knowin' what we know now, and always felt bad about it. I never could abide a man treatin' a woman bad, but there we were, willin' to ignore her situation, just 'couse we needed the money. I guess we convinced ourselves that it wasn't that bad. But it was. A husband ought not to treat his wife that way. It just ain't right.”

“No, it's not,” Kenny agreed. “What happened to her? Do you know?”

“It kind'a worked out for her in the end,” Jed told him. “Her husband's lawyer up and murdered 'im. So she ended up a wealthy widow.”

“Ah. How fitting.”

“Yeah,” Jed shrugged. “The thing is, her husband was a decent man when he wasn't drinkin'. Downright likeable. Seems kind of a shame to me.”

“I see it over and over again, Jed,” Kenny told him. “Fellas get drunk and beat their wives. She either doesn't have the resources to leave, or she does leave, but keeps going back because, like you said, he's a decent man when not drinking. Unfortunately the situation never gets better. Often, the beatings progress up to murder, and it's only then that something might get done about it. I'd say that your widow lady was extremely fortunate.”

“Well, since you put it that way...”

“I'd say that Isabelle's father has done her a favour,” Kenny continued. “She has no obligation to him now, and maybe, with Harry, she'll be able to make a life for herself. I can only hope that neither of her brothers marry. There's two disasters waiting to happen.”

“From what I can tell, there ain't an eligible lady in the county who'll give them two the time of day.”

“Good!”

A discreet knocking on the door caught their attention, and John poked his head in.

“Sorry,” he said. “Best call it a night, fellas. The patient needs his rest.”

Kenny groaned.

“All I've been doing is resting,” he complained. “I'm hardly an invalid.”

“You're not the warden here,” John persisted. “My patient, my rules. Call it a night.”

“It's alright, Kenny,” Jed assured him, as he chuckled. “Beth's waitin' on me anyway. I'll see ya' tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Kenny groused. “Abandon me to this control freak. I feel like I'm an inmate at my own prison.”

That caused Jed to laugh out loud.

“Not even close, so quit your whinin'!” Jed told him. “Besides, you think John here is a control freak, just spend a week under David's care.”

Kenny actually laughed himself then, even though his sore throat protested.

“Yeah, alright,” he conceded. “I get your point. Good night.”

“'Night.”

Xxx

The following morning, Isabelle was standing up on a chair in the hotel room, while Beth and Bridget were hovering around her and making adjustments to the wedding dress.

“My, my,” Bridget complained through a mouth full of pins. “I hope this is going to work. You're quite a bit slimmer and taller than either of us. We can bring the waist and the bust line in, but how do we make it longer?”

“And remember what Mama said,” Beth pointed out. “No permanent alterations.”

Isabelle stamped her foot.

“That is so ridiculous!” she complained. “How are we going to make it fit me, without alterations?”

The two sisters glanced at each other, and rolled their eyes.

“Don't worry, Isabelle,” Bridget consoled her, trying to remember her own wedding jitters and to not take the snarkiness personally. “We'll make it work, one way or the other. Perhaps we can get some lace from the mercantile, and use that to extend the hem. What a shame you don't still have the dress and hat shop...”

Her comment trailed off as she met her sister's painful look.

“Well, never mind,” Bridget tried to cover her mistake. “We'll make it work. We don't want your wedding dress to look exactly like ours did, anyway.”

Isabelle suddenly sucked in her breath, and a hand darted up to her mouth.

“Oh no!” she wailed. “Hadn't thought of that!”

“What?” asked Beth, trying to hide her sigh of exasperation. “What's wrong now?”

“It's bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding!” Isabelle wailed, as tears threatened. “And Harry has already seen this dress! Oh no! What am I going to do?”

“We're going to be changing it!” Bridget reminded her. “We have to anyway, to make it fit you. We'll put lace along the hem, and around the cuffs. We can add ribbons to the collar. We'll make this dress original to you, Isabelle. Harry won't be able to tell.”

“Are you sure?” Isabelle asked, hopefully. “He is a detective, you know. He's trained to be able to spot details like this. Are you sure, he won't notice?”

The two sisters exchanged smiles as they continued to work on the dress.

“We're sure,” they both answered in unison.

“Besides,” Beth added, “I think it's more the bride in the dress, he's not suppose to see before the wedding. Not the dress itself. You'll be fine.”

Isabelle sighed deeply, her worries upon that matter having been put to rest. Now it was time to address another of her imagined fears.

“Are you sure you don't mind Gladys being my matron of honour?” she asked Bridget. “After everything you have done for me; letting me wear your mother's wedding dress, helping to get everything organized, and... standing up for me the other day. It doesn't seem right for you not to have that role. But Gladys would have been heartbroken if I hadn't asked her. She's been such a good friend for so long. She's always been there for me.”

“Yes, I know,” Bridget commented, not being able to hide the slight edge to her tone. “Gladys has always been there to back you up in all your...endeavors.”

“Yes.”

“Don't worry about it,” Bridget assured her. “I don't mind at all, sitting this one out.”

“There we are,” Beth announced, though she had been happy to stay out of the current conversation. “That's the last pin in. What do you think?”

All three ladies turned to look in the mirror on top of the dresser. Isabelle smiled, as her eyes took in her tall, slim figure, and thought how much nicer she looked in this dress than the two Jordan girls   
at their weddings. What a shame Mrs. Jordan wasn't going to let her keep it.

Then her eyes drifted down to her ankles, and she frowned.

“It's still too short,” she grumbled.

“We haven't got the lace yet,” Bridget reminded her. “That will be the next step.”

A knock on the door caught their attentions.

“Who is it?” Isabelle asked.

“It's Gladys and Eugenie.”

“Oh!” Isabelle was practically jumping up and down. “Come in, come in!”

The door opened, and the two young ladies bounced into the room. They were both flushed with excitement—and impatient to show off the items they had just purchased at the mercantile.

“Look at what we found!” Gladys exclaimed. “These will be perfect for your dress!”

Isabelle was off the chair in an instant, and all the ladies gathered around the bed where Gladys had laid the box and was in the process of untying it.

“Let me see!” Isabelle pleaded, all eager to view the spoils. “What did you get for me?”

“They're perfect,” Eugenie repeated. “I couldn't believe our luck.”

The box was opened and Isabelle had her hands in there first—and began to pull out various small bags, and a long strip of peach colored material. Opening up one of the bags, a whole slew of peach colored buttons splattered out onto the bed. Her brows went up in surprise.

“Peach?” she asked. “But the pearls are so lovely...”

“Pearls are blasé!” Eugenie insisted. “Besides, you want to make the dress yours, even if it is just for the day.”

“And doesn't Harry always call you 'Peaches'?” Gladys reminded her. “We saw these and thought; how perfect! We'll get rid of all the pearl buttons and yellow lace, and replace them with these! That will really make this dress stand out!”

“Oh, you're so right!” Isabelle agreed, and her eyes lit up with appreciation. “He does call me 'Peaches'! How wonderful!”

“Wait a minute!” Bridget intervened. “We're not going to totally destroy our mother's wedding dress. We don't mind adding some extras to it, extras that can be removed later. But to start removing bits and pieces...”

“Oh don't be such a prude, Bridget,” Eugenie snarked. “We'll put everything back to the way it was after the wedding.”

Bridget and Beth exchanged worried looks. This situation was getting out of hand, and both girls were beginning to regret their generosity.

“Do you have any idea how many pearls and buttons there are on this dress?” Beth asked the group.

The five ladies all exchanged glances.

Isabelle shrugged. “With all of us working on it, I'm sure it won't take long to replace them. And I'll help you put the pearls back on afterwards. That way I can keep the buttons and the lace as my own keepsake.”

“Well, we best get started then,” Bridget relented. “But don't you dare lose any of those pearl buttons!”

“Oh, don't worry!” Gladys assured her. “We'll treasure them as though they are actually worth something.”

Again, the Jordan sisters exchanged looks and made a silent pact to keep a close eye on those pearls. Gladys knew darn well that those buttons were precious, both emotionally and financially, and they didn't put it past either of Isabelle's friends to help themselves to as many as they could spirit away.

“Did you see any wider peach lace at the mercantile?” Beth asked the two women. “We need something to add to the hem, to make it longer. Since we are apparently going with peach, then we better get something before it sells out.”

“Oh yes!” Gladys agreed. “There was something there that will do. Remember that bolt of lace over by the threads?”

“You're right!” Eugenie concurred. “Let's go get it!”

“It won't take both of you to get it!” Beth said as the two instigators made a dash for the door. “One of you can stay and help...”

“We won't be long,” Eugenie assured them. “I'm sure you can manage without us for a few more minutes.”

“Get some more sewing supplies while you're at it,” Bridget called after the retreating friends. “If we're all going to be sewing on buttons, we're going to need them.”

The door slammed shut on her last words, but she hoped she got the message across.

“Well, come on,” Beth said with a sigh. “We might as well get that dress off you, and we can get started removing buttons and lace. We'll have to be careful with the lace though. We don't want any of it tearing.”

Isabelle stood still, looking at Bridget, with a frown upon her brow.

“What?” Bridget asked her.

“You really do have a bruise on your face,” Isabelle informed her. “We'll have to cover it with make-up or something. Can't have you looking like that at my wedding.”

“You should talk,” Bridget responded. “You have bruises and a split lip. Good luck covering those with make-up.”

Isabelle brought a hand up to her own swollen and tender lip. In the excitement of getting her dress organized, she had forgotten all about those minor detail.

Xxx

The trip back from Yuma to Brookswood was uneventful to say the least. Steven spent much of the time reading through the manuscripts that David had brought down with him, while David was reading a worn out, tattered looking journal concerning Chinese herbal medicine. A colleague who lived in San Francisco had found it in a run down book store in China Town and had sent it to David, knowing how much he enjoyed unorthodox treatments.

When neither were occupied with reading, or passing the time in conversation, they were sleeping. Both men had been through quite a week, and now that the pressure was off, exhaustion took over and the idleness of train travel was put to healing use.   
Steven stretched and yawned as he realized that he had again fallen asleep while reading. He shifted around in his seat, and straightened himself up to get comfortable, when he noticed his travelling mate staring wistfully out the window.

“What are you think about?” Steven asked.

David jerked his eyes over to Steven, surprised that he had been caught daydreaming.

“Oh.” The doctor considered his options. 'Nothing' didn't seem appropriate. “Ah, well. Just how much I enjoy this countryside, and how much I'd miss it, if I ever left.”

“Oh?” Steven woke up even more, suddenly interested. “Do you have plans to leave?”

David shrugged. “My bother has been pestering me to return to Philadelphia.”

“You mean, permanently?”

David nodded.

“Oh. Well...” Steven seemed at a loss for words. “Are you considering it?”

David shrugged again.

“I don't know,” he answered. “There's an excellent position opening up at the research hospital there, and of course, my family feel that it would be a great fit for me. They never could understand why I left the city to come West.”

“Well,” Steven ventured. “I can see their point.”

“I know,” David agreed. “So can I.”

“Even Sheriff Nugent commented on why an educated man like yourself would be stuck out here, practising medicine in the middle of nowhere.”

“I know,” David agreed again. “It would be a wonderful opportunity.”

“But...?”

“I still feel the same way about it, as I did when I first left to come out here.”

“And how's that?”

“The West really needs good doctors,” David explained. “I've done far more good here than I ever could have in Philadelphia. Educated doctors are a dime a dozen back there.”

“Yes,” Steven concurred. “But a research position? That's right up your alley.”

“I can still do research where I am.”

Steven actually snorted.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I just know how long it takes for you to get any new information. You're always sending back East, or to Europe for manuscripts and even books. You'd have so much more information available to you in one of the larger metropolises. Look how long it took to get any information about epilepsy, or, way back, when Jed was going through his problems. You had to send back East for any information.”

“Yes,” David nodded. “But if I'd been back East, then who would have been here to help Jed, or Hannibal for that matter? It might have taken a while for me to get the information I needed for them, but at least I was willing to look for it. I don't want to blow my own horn, but I highly doubt that either one of them would still be with us, if I hadn't been here to help them.”

“Yes, you have a point,” Steven admitted. “John Mullin is capable enough for the usual things, but...”

“Yes.”

“How does Trish feel about it?”

“I haven't asked her yet.”

“Oh?” Steven's brows went up. “Why not?”

“Because I think she would agree to go only because it would be good for me,” David explained. “It would also provide opportunities for Nathan to get a solid education. She'd feel obligated. But I know Tricia wouldn't want to leave her family, or her home. She was born, and grew up in Arapaho County. I don't think she would like the city.”

“Tricia never struck me as someone who would agree to something that she was uncomfortable with,” Steven commented. “Besides, at the rate Denver is growing, by the time Nathan is ready for collage, those options might be available right here. We already have a good hospital, and things are only getting better. On top of that, if Nathan decided to go to school back East, he could go on his own, and stay with family there. He'd have the best of both worlds.”

“Yes, that's a good point,” David agreed. “I really don't have anything back East to pull me there. My older brother is the only family I have stayed in touch with. I'm afraid my parents never quite forgave me for turning my back on all the things they wanted to shove down my throat.”

Steven chuckled. “I can relate to that!”

“Besides,” David continued as he returned to staring out the window, “I like the West. The family and friends that matter to me, are here. I am my own boss, and I have a good practice, with the freedom to do all the research I want. So, it takes a little longer to get some of the information I need. So what? At least I send for it, and then it's here, for the next generation of doctors!”

“Yes. You could start up your own medical school.”

David rolled his eyes.

“I don't think I'm quite ready for that,” he countered, then turned serious again. “Still, I wouldn't mind helping to set one up, when the time is right.”

Steven smiled as he saw David arrive at his own answer.

“No,” the doctor concluded. “I think I'll stay right where I am. This is home.”

Xxx

Harry sat in the pew, wearing the longest face Jed had ever seen. Combine that expression with the black eye from the stag party, and the cuts and bruises from the fire, he was a sorry sight indeed.

“Harry!” Jed cajoled him. “What's the matter? Everything's goin' along just fine.”

“This is a disaster,” Harry grumbled. “The chapel still looks like a war zone. All the food for our reception got eaten. They even cut up our cake and gave it away! How can I marry my Peaches amongst all this shambles?”

“In case ya' ain't noticed,” Jed pointed out. “We all look like we've been through a war zone. And if you try to postpone the weddin' again, I don't think Isabelle would ever forgive ya'.”

“But she deserves the best,” Harry insisted. “Maybe I'll take her to Denver, and we can get married in the chapel there...”

“Don't you dare!” Jed responded. “After all the work we're doin' ta' get this weddin' pulled together, don't you dare just pack up and go elsewhere! You even think about doin' that, and I'll tie ya' up and haul ya' over here at gunpoint for the ceremony!”

If it had been possible for Harry to look even more miserable, he would have done it.

“Okay, Kid,” he whimpered pathetically. “No need fer violence. I just want the best for my Peaches, that's all.”

“C'mon, Harry,” Jed said as he hauled the detective up by the arm. “I'll buy ya' a beer. David and Steven will be back tomorrow, and then we can get this silly...ah, this celebration under way.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Xxx

Heyes and Cedric sat stoically, arms folded across their chests, while each attempted to avoid the other's glare. Lois, who was apparently oblivious to the tension inside the coach, was chatting happily with Miranda, describing in great detail all the glorious things she and her husband had experienced during their two week honeymoon. Miranda did her best to maintain interest, but she was more than slightly aware of the tension in the coach, and her attention was divided.

“What a lovely little down Santa Marta is!” Lois was declaring. “I'm so pleased that you and Han were finally able to get down here. I take it everything has been cleared up.”

“Yes,” Miranda assured her. “Just as I had said, it was all a misunderstanding...” Cedric snorted. “...and we were able to carry on with our journey.”

“How wonderful,” Lois responded. “But what a shame we never saw you in town. Where were you staying?”

“Casa Junto al Mar,” Miranda told her. “It was a lovely hotel. All we had to do was step off our veranda, and we were on the beach. We did spend most mornings, sitting out there with our coffee, and enjoying the ocean.”

“Oh,” Lois glanced at her husband. “Yes, we had considered that one, but Cedric felt it was too native. We wanted something that catered more to American flavour. We found a lovely hacienda up on the hill, away from the town. It is where the more, well, proper guests stayed during their visits. We really didn't have to interact with the locals at all, if we didn't want to. Of course, we had to when we went on any tours or excursions, but we were sure to keep it to a minimal. I would have thought that where you were staying, you would have been surrounded by Mexicans. Where in the world did you eat?”

“The restaurant right at the hotel,” Miranda told her. “It was perfect, and very well managed. They offered many American dishes, but we found the local flavours enticing, and quite enjoyable. Well, except for breakfast. We tended to stick to eggs and sausages for breakfast. But dinner was open for experimenting, and oh! some of those meals were absolutely delicious!”

“We find the local food far too spicy for us,” Lois countered. “How could you stand it?”

“You don't have to get them spicy hot,” Miranda assured her. “I'm sure they toned down the heat, knowing that many tourists aren't accustomed to it.”

“Did you even try the local foods?” Heyes finally snuck in.

“No,” Cedric answered bluntly. “Why bother trying something, when you already know you won't like it?”

“Why bother visiting another country, when you already distain the inhabitants?” Heyes asked.

“We don't distain them” Lois defended their views. “as long as they understand their position. It's when they get above their station, that I feel uncomfortable. Cedric had to put more than one of the servants in their place.”

“And yet, it is their country,” Heyes pointed out. “We are visitors here.”

“They don't seem to mind taking our money,” Cedric countered. “They should be prepared to give service in return.”

“We found the service excellent where we were staying,” Miranda put in. “Even down at the bay, along the wharf, everyone was very polite.”

“Down on the wharf?” Lois' eyes bulged. “You actually went down...there?”

“We kind of had to, if we were going to catch the boat to take us on a tour of the bay,” Heyes snarked. “It's not like they carry the boat to the door of your hotel room.”

“You went on a tour of the bay?” Lois asked. “Oh...well.”

“You should have done that, while you were in town, Lois,” Miranda told her. “It was marvellous! Such beautiful colors, and the fish, and the coral. Absolutely beautiful. You'll never see anything like it in the States.”

“Cedric felt that it wasn't proper for a lady to go down to the wharf,” Lois explained, with a disappointed glance at her husband. “All those people down there, wearing those brightly colored costumes. Hardly fitting for a proper American lady...oh, but, not that the outfit doesn't look wonderful on you, Miranda.”

A strained silence settled over the coach as Lois bit into her lower lip, trying to think of a way to cover up her blunder. Nothing was coming to mind.”

“Well,” Miranda covered it for her. “What did you and Cedric do, while you were in town?”

“Oh!” Lois brightened up at the offered escape. “We spent much of our time driving around the countryside. We hired a coach and driver who knew where all the more exquisite homes and haciendas were located. We couldn't believe how lovely they are, and so cheap. There was one place in particular, where the lady of the house is an American, and she always accepts visiting tourists from her homeland to stop in for lunch. So generous of her. What a shame you never got to meet her.”

“Hmm,” Heyes grumbled. “That sounds like Meg.”

“No, no,” Lois corrected him. “Her name was Margaret. Margaret Carruthers, isn't that right Cedric?”

“Yes,” Cedric confirmed. “You must be mistaking her for one of your lower class acquaintances, Mr. Heyes.”

Heyes smiled dangerously.

“Same woman, Mr. Soames,” he answered, dryly. “Her legal name may be Margaret, but to her friends, she is Meg. I have known her for a number of years.”

“I see,” Cedric responded, his lips tightening in irritation.

“Oh, but we did meet the alcalde!” Lois put in, still trying to save face. “He met us at the hotel, when the coach dropped us off. Very charming man.”

“Of course he would want to introduce himself to any Americans who come into his town,” Cedric commented. “He knows we have money.”

“I am sure that Senor Cordoba has no interest in your money,” Heyes told him, wondering if Cedric could become any more condescending. “He has plenty of money of his own.”

“I heard he has a wonderful villa, just up the hill from town,” Lois stated. “Though we never did get to see it.”

“Yes,” Cedric agreed. “We were led to believe that the alcalde hosts a dinner every week for visitors to this town. We never received an invitation to such a dinner; so obviously, just another lie to make themselves appear important.”

“Oh? How odd,” Heyes smiled again. “There was such a dinner at the alcalde's home, just the other evening. Miranda and I had a very pleasant evening there. And it is a very impressive villa. Well worth seeing, if you have the chance.”

“Some beautiful artwork,” Miranda put in. “And the tapestries! Not to mention the carpets! It almost felt like blasphemy to walk upon them.”

“Oh,” Lois looked disappointed. “I'm sorry we missed that. We were in town for two weeks, I can't imagine why...”

“Yes, well...” Heyes nodded. “Perhaps next time.”

 

By late afternoon, when the coach finally reached its destination, all four occupants were ready to disembark. They stepped out onto the boardwalk and waited patiently for their luggage to be unloaded so that both couples could retire to their own respite.

“Will we be seeing you on the northbound train, in the morning?” Lois asked politely.

“No,” Heyes assured her. “We'll be catching the train going East.”

“Thank goodness,” Cedric grumbled under his breath, as he turned to follow the porter into the hotel entrance.

“Oh, well,” Lois smiled. “Goodbye then.”

“Goodbye, Lois,” Miranda returned. “You take care of yourself.”

Lois nodded, though she didn't quite understand the reason for Miranda's concern.

“Yes, I will,” she assured the older woman. “Goodbye, Han.”

“Goodbye,” Heyes answered as he mustered up a smile for her, at least. “Safe journey home.”

“Yes. You as well.”

Hannibal and Miranda both let loose a sigh of relief as the couple disappeared into the lobby of the hotel.

“Let's have a seat, and wait out here for a few minutes,” Heyes suggested. “Give them a chance to get to their room, before we go in.”

“Lovely idea,” Miranda agreed. “It's the perfect evening for it, too. Quiet.”

Xxx

“You do realize that Hannibal Heyes is back in town, don't you?”

“Is he?” Nugent answered, with an air of disinterested innocence. “Hardly surprising, considering this is the only town the Santa Marta coach comes to.”

“He could have shown some decency by taking another route!” Shandal continued. “The audacity of the man is ludicrous. Hasn't this town been put at enough risk? I insist that you arrest him, and force him to leave this town, and never come back!”

Nugent sighed and pushed himself away from his desk.

“There's no need,” the sheriff informed the doctor, as he stood up and went to the stove to replenish his coffee cup. “Heyes and his wife will be on the Eastbound train tomorrow. I don't see how he can leave any earlier than that.”

“He could leave tonight!” Shandal insisted.

Nugent returned to his desk and sat back down.

“There's no coaches or trains leaving tonight,” he pointed out. “Even if I ordered him out of town, he could hardly rent riding horses, considering his wife's condition, and a surrey wouldn't be much better.”

“We'll just see about that!” Shandal protested. “As the doctor in this town, it is my professional duty to make sure our citizens are safe from illness. If you're not going to do it, then I'll just have to go and have a word with Mr. Heyes, myself.”

“You best leave that man alone, Doc,” Nugent suggested, as the doctor headed for the door. “I think he's about had his fill of you. Why don't you go on home... ?”

Nugent stopped talking and simply shook his head, as Shandal's willowy, crooked form disappeared from the office and supposedly made a bee line towards the hotel.

Xxx

“Oh dear,” Miranda mumbled, as she spied the apparition swooping towards them.

“Hmm? What?” Heyes lifted his hat from his eyes, as he pushed himself back up from his snooze on the bench. 

Miranda gave a discreet nod in the desired direction.

“Oh damn,” Heyes grumbled. “Time to go inside, I think.”

“Yes,” his wife agreed. “Let's.”

They stood up together, and with Heyes offering his wife an arm, they strode purposefully into the lobby of the hotel.

Xxx

Nugent sat and drummed his fingers upon the top of his desk. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened, as he accepted the inevitability of what he needed to do. Pushing himself away from his desk again, he strode purposefully from the office, and followed in Shandal's footsteps.

The tall weedy man wasn't hard to spot as he made his way towards the hotel, and the sheriff quickened his pace so as to catch up with him before he started yet another incident that couldn't be easily resolved.

“Doc!” Nugent called out. “Doc! Hold up there!”

Shandal stopped just shy of the hotel entrance, and he turned an irritated look to the lawman.

“I just saw them step in to the lobby,” Shandal complained. “What is it that you want?”

“I want you to leave those folks alone,” Nugent told him. “They haven't done anything to bother you, and they'll be on their way tomorrow. Just let it go, Shandal.”

“I simply want to have a word with him...”

“No, you don't,” Nugent stated bluntly. “You want to harass him. And to be quite honest, I've had enough of this. Now all this was dealt with last week, and as far as I'm concerned, it's settled. You start stirring the pot again, and I swear, I will lock you up for being a public nuisance.”

Shandal tried to stand up to his full height, but his crooked back wouldn't let him. So instead, his eyes bulged, and his mouth fell open like a fish in shallow water.

“You can't be serious!” the doctor finally gasped out. “I'm an up-standing citizen of this town—and this county! You wouldn't dare!”

“Try me, Doc,” Nugent warned him, and standing up to his full height, he glared up into the doctor's eyes and got his message across. “I find out that you've gone anywhere near the Heyes' during their short stay in this town, and you will find yourself on the inside of my jail cell. You got that?”

“Well, I...”

“Just go on home, Doc,” Nugent continued. “Your wife probably has your supper of beef heart and cabbage all prepared and waiting for you.”

“How do you know, she cooks beef heart and cabbage on Saturdays?”

“Because it's what she cooks every Saturday!” Nugent snapped back at him. “Just like she cooks chicken and dumplings every Monday, and beef stew on Tuesday, and fried chicken on Wednesday...”

Nugent's voice trailed off as he headed back towards his office, but then he made a sudden change of direction and disappeared into the cafe. All that talk of food had reminded him that it was supper time, and he was hungry.

Shandal stood, flabbergasted, for a moment, not having realized that his culinary routine was so obvious to the other residents of the town. Coming back to the present, he self-consciously glanced around him, then made a concerted dash down the street, towards home.

Xxx

Hannibal and Miranda moved quickly to the front desk to check in, and Miranda spied their bags discreetly tucked out of the way, to await their arrival. She smiled politely at the familiar clerk behind the counter, and he quickly smiled back.

Heyes had sent a cautionary glance over his shoulder to see if they were being followed, and turned forward again, just in time to see the clerk blushing slightly, and grinning at his wife. He snapped a quick look over at Miranda, but she seemed nonplussed at the attention. Heyes felt confused. What was going on here?

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Heyes,” the clerk greeted the lady. “Nice to see you back in our hotel again.”

“Thank you,” Miranda responded appropriately. “It's nice to be back.”

The clerk's smile grew.

“Yes ma'am,” he answered. “You seemed most comfortable in the room you had before. It is available now, if you would like that one again.”

“Yes, thank you. That would be very nice.”

“Ah, excuse me,” Heyes interjected, and leaned forward to get the clerk's attention. “The lady is here with her husband. In fact, I'm standing right beside her.”

“Oh!” The clerk flustered, his blush deepening. “Yes of course! I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect, ah...Mr. Heyes...”

The clerk stammered to a halt, and stood staring at the ex-outlaw, and biting into his lower lip in anticipation of a deadly blow reigning down upon him.

“We'd like to get a room,” Heyes reminded him, and smiled winningly.

“Oh! Yes, of course.” The clerk came to himself again, and quickly pivoted the book around in front of the two guests. “Just, if you would, sign in. Please.”

Heyes nodded, and taking the inked up pen, he casually scripted in his and Miranda's names.

The clerk smiled, still a little nervously, but managed to do his job in any case.

“Here are your keys,” he offered. “I'll get the busboy to bring your bags up.”

“Thank you,” Heyes responded as he took the keys.

Miranda smiled at the young man and caused him to go weak in the knees.

“Yes, thank you,” she added. “Have a lovely evening.”

“Oh, yes ma'am. Thank you. Ah, you as well.”

The couple turned to head up the stairs just as Cedric and Lois were heading down. Lois smiled over at them, but Cedric did a good job of pretending that he didn't see them. The Heyes' stopped in their tracks and allowed the other couple full access to the lobby and consequence entrance to the restaurant.

“How about we have supper in the cafe this evening?” Heyes asked hopefully.

“Yes,” his wife agreed. “I think that would be a lovely idea.”

Once the coast was clear, they continued on their way towards the stairs, with Heyes sending one more speculative glance towards the front doors. He fleetingly wondered why Dr. Shandal had not followed them into the hotel, but he was quite relieved and accepted the small gift of peace, at face value. Hopefully that was the last they would ever see of the 'good doctor'.

Xxx

Half an hour later, the Heyes', now refreshed from their journey, settled down at a table by the front window of the cafe. Miranda had to smile at her husband's preference of sitting in a strategic position where he could keep his eye on the front door, and on the passers-by along the boardwalk outside. She felt there was no need for this continued caution, but she accepted the fact that some habits were not to be broken.

As Heyes did his quick reckoning of the outside surroundings, Miranda glanced around the cafe in search of their waitress. She lit upon a familiar face and instantly perked up and waved.

“Louise!” she called. “Hello!”

Louise glanced over as she was collecting up menus, and a look of sheer panic crossed over her features. Heyes turned away from the window and looked toward the waitress who would be serving them this evening. Their eyes locked, and for an instant, time stood still. Then both moved at exactly the same time, as Louise tried to make a bolt for the kitchen, and Heyes jumped up to grab her arm and prevent her escape.

“No, Louise,” Heyes assured her. “It's alright. Don't go.”

“It's not alright,” Louise whispered back at him. “I can't be seen with you.”

“You're our waitress,” Heyes pointed out as he gently persuaded her over to their table. “You're serving us, that's all.”

Louise came with him and absently put their menus down on the table.

“No, Mr. Heyes,” she continued as she glanced nervously around her. “I'm married now, to a man who knows nothing of my connection to you. If he sees me with you...”

“If he sees you with us, it's only because you're doing your job,” Heyes pointed out. “Relax. I won't give you away.”

“I gave your lawyer a letter to give to you and Jed, once you got back home,” Louise told him. “I guess I felt that I needed to explain why I ignored the troubles you went through, and why I simply could not acknowledge you. Not five years ago, and not last week, when you were in town.”

“I understand you keeping your distance while I was in prison,” Heyes assured her. “As things turned out, you were right to do so. As for now, just relax and treat us like any of your other customers. It'll be fine.”

“Do you expect your husband here soon?” Miranda asked, confused with the situation, but concerned over Louise's distress.

“He meets me here at the end of my shift, and we have supper together,” Louise told them. “He's not here now, but he will be soon.”

“There's no reason for him to know about us,” Heyes assured her. “We're just here for supper. That's all.”

Louise took a deep, relaxing breath and smiled.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “Silly of me. I over-reacted. I just wasn't expecting to see you.”

“Likewise,” Heyes agreed. “I take it you've already met my wife, Miranda.”

“Yes,” Louise told him, and allowed a genuine smile of greeting shine through. “Lovely to see you again, Miranda. I did get your message.”

“I was sorry to not be able to say thank you in person. And to say goodbye,” Miranda admitted. “But now it seems we have the opportunity again.”

“Louise! What are ya' doin'?” came a yell from the kitchen. “Ya' got customers waitin' on ya'!”

Louise jumped. “Oh dear!” she muttered. “Yes, I'm coming.”

“Just relax,” Heyes told her again. “Bring us some coffee when you have a minute, and don't worry.”

“Yes, alright.”

“Actually, tea for me,” Miranda put in. “Something soothing, if you have it.”

Louise looked at her and smiled.

“Yes. I know just the one,” and moved away to continue her duties.

Miranda sent her husband a raised eye brow.

“So,” she teased. “Another of your ladies who calls you 'Mr. Heyes'? You must have been a tyrant.”

Heyes sighed and sent her a look. This needling was inevitable.

“She wasn't one of my ladies,” he needlessly assured his wife. “She did me and Jed a favour back when we were still wanted. A friend of ours murdered her fiance, and she agreed to stay behind and testify on our friend's behalf.”

Now Miranda's brow went up for real in surprise.

“Really?” she asked. “I would have thought Louise would have wanted to see that man convicted, if he murdered her fiance.”

“Our friend was a woman, named Jenny,” Heyes continued to explain. “And Louise's fiance had convince Jenny's son Billy and his friend, Caleb, to pretend to be us. But he was really using them to cover his own robbery of the bank where he worked, and have the blame put on me and the Kid. Once the job was done, he lured them out to a secluded place, and murdered them.”

“Oh no,” Miranda whispered, and her hand instinctively cradled her own developing tummy. “That's awful. Did you know them?”

“Yep,” Heyes answered with a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Billy anyway. Didn't know Caleb. We didn't even know they were involved until we got to town and ran in to Jenny. She knew something had happened to her son, and she was right. Once we convinced Louise of the truth about her fiance, she agreed to help us.”

“Did she help?” Miranda asked. “Was your friend cleared?”

“Yes,” Heyes nodded. “but she died shortly afterwards. Losing her son that way, and then committing murder, even if it was justified, well, it was too much for her to live with. I can understand that. Abi came close to ending her own life, after we lost Rebecca. It was only discovering that she was pregnant with Anya, that gave her the courage to hang on. That little girl saved both our lives.”

“It's hard to imagine Abi giving up like that,” Miranda admitted. “She comes across as having such a strong character.”

“She does,” Heyes insisted. “So did Jenny. She was always a strong woman, but she and Billy were close and I guess she decided that life wasn't worth it after that.” A haunted look crossed over his features, and he sighed quietly. “I know what that feels like; to lose all hope and light for the future.” He glanced up, and seeing the concerned look in his wife's eyes, he smiled and reached across, he took her hand in his, and squeezed it reassuringly. “It's a terrible thing to lose a child,” he continued. “It leaves an empty pain in your heart that never goes away. I hope to all the powers that be, that you will never have to experience that.”

Again, Miranda protectively held her womb as a fearful dread settled over her heart.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I can't even imagine.”

Louise returned to the subdued table and set the beverages down.

“I take he has just told you of our history,” she conjectured.

“Yes,” Miranda admitted. “What a terrible thing.”

“Yes, it was,” Louise agreed. “But it's all in the past now. I did a much better job of choosing my current husband. For one thing, he wasn't already married.”

“Oh!” Miranda hadn't been told that part. “Oh dear.”

“We all make mistakes,” Heyes put in. “No one knows that better than me. I'm glad to hear that everything has worked out for you.” Louise smiled, and nodded. “I must admit,” Heyes continued, “that I'm actually glad we ran in to you here. We never got the chance to thank you for sticking around and helping Jenny out.”

“It was the least I could do,” Louise conceded. “I'm sorry it wasn't enough.”

“You made a difference though,” Heyes told her. “Don't ever doubt that.”

Louise smiled and perked up a little bit.

“Yes. Now, can I take your orders?”

Xxx

After supper, the gloaming was just beginning to settle in, as the couple made their way, arm in arm, back to the hotel. The saloon across the street was in full swing for the evening's entertainment, and Heyes couldn't stop his gaze from flicking over in that direction. He ignored the pull to the poker table though, and carried on back to the hotel with his wife. 

However, once up to their room, Miranda turned a smile to her husband and caressed his arm.

“I saw you looking at the saloon,” she told him. “Why don't you go on over and have a drink or two. Play some poker.”

“No.” Heyes shook his head adamantly. “That would hardly be fitting on our honeymoon. Besides, I enjoy spending the evenings with you.”

“Well, to be honest,” Miranda explained. “I'm feeling tired tonight, and a little unsettled. Junior has decided to act up even with the tea. Maybe he liked the Mexican fare, and doesn't want western food anymore.”

“Oh dear,” Heyes commented. “We may have created a monster.”

“Hmm,” Randa agreed. “So, I think I'll have the restaurant send up some mild tea, with honey, if I can get it, and I'll settle in for the night.”

“But still, leaving you alone...”

“Oh, Hannibal,” she teased. “don't be silly. I'm a big girl. Maybe I'll take this opportunity to read one of those dime novels you bought. Give me the chance to get to know the 'real you'.”

“Ha! Fat chance of that, not by reading those things.”

“Still, it'll be a nice way for me to relax,” Miranda insisted. “You go on. Go play some poker. Just make sure you don't win too much. We don't need more animosity in this town.”

Heyes chuckled. “Alright,” he agreed. “but only if you're sure.”

“Of couse, I'm sure,” she reiterated. “Now go on with you.”

Heyes took her into a gentle hug and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he said. “I love you.”

“Love you too. And I love hearing you say it.”

They each tightened their embrace of the other, and settled there for a moment, drinking in the essence of their shared intimacy.

“I'll ask them to send up some tea for you on my way out,” Heyes whispered, and gave her a breath of a kiss that sent a tingle down her spine.

“That would be nice, thank you,” Miranda murmured close to his ear.

He smiled and gave her a full kiss upon her lips before pulling away from her and giving her an arm's length look of appreciation.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I won't be long. A couple of hours, at most.”

“That's fine,” she agreed. “Although, I might just be asleep by the time you get back.”

Xxx

Heyes left the hotel looking confident, but still cautiously checking his surroundings for any sign of approaching hostiles. The last thing he wanted was a run in with either Cedric or Shandal. A little part of him knew he was taking a chance by heading over to the saloon, but Miranda had read him right again. As much as he enjoyed her company, he needed some time for himself; have a beer or two, and play some poker with the guys. And if he was reading Miranda right, and he was sure that he was, she was also feeling the need for some quiet time by herself.

So, he stepped outside, feeling both apprehensive and excited about an evening on his own, at the local drinking establishment.

The walk over to the saloon proved to be uneventful, but coming up to the batwing doors, he quickly had to back step to avoid being bowled over by the local law enforcement.

“Oh! Sheriff Nugent,” Heyes greeted him with a relieved smile, and thought fleetingly about how much more relaxed he was around lawmen these days. “Final check for the evening?”

“Mr. Heyes,” Nugent returned the greeting. “No, not quite. I'm heading back to the office now after my supper break, and then I'll likely do the rounds again later this evening. Did you and your wife enjoy Santa Marta?”

“Yes,” Heyes informed him. “Very much so. It was a shame to have to leave.”

“Mmm hmm. Your wife not with you this evening?”

“No,” Heyes answered, wondering where this was going. “She isn't feeling well and wanted to spend a quiet evening with herself. So, I thought I would come over here a play a hand or two of poker.”

“You have your medication on you?”

“My what?” Heyes pulled an innocent.

Nugent smiled knowingly and shook his head.

“Alright, Mr. Heyes,” he said. “You have a pleasant evening. There is a pretty good poker game going on in there at the moment. I'm sure they'll make room for you.”

“Oh!” Heyes showed his enthusiasm. “Great, thank you.”

Heyes was about to walk past the sheriff, but that man put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Ah, Mr. Heyes,” he began. “Be nice. These fellas work hard for their money. It's just a small town poker game. I'd hate to see them all get cleaned out.”

“I know, Sheriff,” Heyes assured him. “I'm just here to relax, myself. I'll make sure everyone goes home with money in their pockets.”

“I'd appreciate that. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Sheriff.”

The two men parted company and Heyes walked into the saloon, absentmindedly completing his usual survey of the quietly buzzing activity surrounding him. He smiled to himself when he spied two poker games in process, and noted that one of them had an opening just waiting for him.

The first thing on his agenda, however, was to order himself a beer. This necessity was so ingrained that the procedure was accomplished smoothly, with both the patron and the barman fulfilling their tasks without thought or concern.

Heyes took his beer and casually sauntered over to the selected game, then hung back until the play was completed. He took a healthy mouthful of beer and watched the players make their stands and place their bets. Again, he smiled. No professionals here.

The play finished, and Heyes stepped forward.

“Excuse me,” he put in as the current winner was collecting his chips. “I see you have room for one more. May I join you?”

“Sure,” came the response from dealer. “But I warn you, we don't go for big stakes here. It's just a fun, local game.”

“Oh, those are my favourite kind,” Heyes assured the group as he pulled out the chair and sat down.

“Good,” the dealer answered. “I'm Ted, this here is Ross, and Bill and Mike. The young fella there is Jackson, and the two on either side of you are Mitch and Rydal.”

“Howdy.”

“Howdy.”

“Evening,” Heyes greeted the group as the hired help came over to exchange Heyes' legal tender for chips. “I'm Han.”

Ted watched Heyes peel off some bills and thought he'd better reiterate. “Twenty-five cents is the buy in,” he informed the newcomer. “Like I said, small stakes.”

“Ah!” Heyes smiled as he returned some of his bills to his inner pocket, and handed over a sufficient amount to get a decent start on the evening.

“Okay!” Ted announced as he scuffled the deck. “Let's play some poker!”

Xxx

As usual, when Heyes gets into a good poker game, whether it's just for fun, or there's a $20,000 pot on the line, he loses track of time. An hour went by like five minutes, and he barely noticed when some of the players began to disperse for the evening. He remembered his 'good evenings' etc., but other than that, he was too focused on how to not win too much, to really be paying attention.

Heyes did pay more attention to newcomers to the table though, making sure he made eye contact and extending the expected greetings. All were local fellas, just looking for a distraction from their busy days, and Heyes was content, allowing himself to relax and enjoy this 'boy's night out'.

Then, when it came his time to deal, another individual made his presence known. Heyes felt a twinge of disappointment at the sound of the all too familiar voice.

“Mind if I join in?”

“Course not, young fella,” Ted greeted him. “Pull up a chair. Casual game here though, just for fun.”

“That's fine.”

Ted again made the rounds of introductions, and when he got to Han, Heyes looked up and met the newcomer's hostile gaze.

“Friendly game, huh?” he asked. “With him playing?”

“Good evening to you too, Cedric,” Heyes greeted him. “Didn't think you played poker.”

Quiet murmuring made its way around the table. Cedric heavily sat down in one of the chairs, making it obvious that he'd already had a little too much to drink. Heyes breathed an inward sigh, feeling that this game was already over.

“What's that supposed to mean.” Ted asked the newcomer. “Han has been playing here with us all evening. There's been no problems.”

“Yeah, he introduced himself as 'Han' to me and my wife as well,” Cedric continued. “But his full name is Hannibal Heyes, and for those of you who don't get out much, he's well known as a card sharp—among other things.”

A heavy silence settled over the game as the other players took in this new information.

“I am a semi-professional poker player, Cedric,” Heyes clarified. “There's a bit of a difference between that and a 'card sharp'.”

“I don't care what you call yourself, we all know what you are,” Cedric snapped back. “He's probably setting you all up, so he can wipe you out at the end, and walk away with all your money.”

The other players took a look around at the amount of winnings in front of Heyes as compared to what everyone else had in their own piles. It all looked comparable to them. Might even be that Heyes' stack was a tad bit smaller than some.

Then, in unison, as everyone was coming to the same conclusion around the same time, all eyes took in the meagre but typical pot in the center of the table. Glances were passed around between the local boys, and a couple of them even began to chuckle.

“Well he sure ain't set his sights too high,” Rydal stated. “if his plan is to win big off'a this game!”

Everyone laughed, except for Heyes and Cedric.

“C'mon young fella,” Ted placated. “Relax. This has been a good, friendly game all evening. We don't want any trouble here.”

“If you don't want trouble,” Cedric suggested. “Then ask him to leave. Otherwise you're gonna be getting more than you bargained for.”

“He's been playin' good honest poker,” Mike put in. “No reason to ask him to leave. Besides, kind of an honour, playin' a game with Hannibal Heyes himself. Ahh, I mean, that is, if this fella here is telling the truth. Are you Hannibal Heyes?”

Heyes smiled deprecatingly. “Yes, gentlemen. I'm afraid I am.”

“No need to apologize,” Ted assured him. “Like Mike says, it's an honour..”

Cedric snorted, but Heyes' smile grew and he relaxed a little.

“Thank you,” he said. “And I assure you, I'm not interested in wiping you all out. I was just looking for a nice, relaxing poker game.”

“Well, you certainly came to the right place for that,” Ten agreed. “C'mon, let's play poker!”

Heyes nodded, then glanced at Cedric, while he commenced shuffling the deck.

“You in or out, Cedric?” he asked.

“I'm in,” Cedric stated as he motioned to one of the gals to bring him some chips. “If for no other reason than to keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't try to pull anything.”

Heyes' smile grew even more as he started dealing out the cards.

“I assure you, you can relax,” he told the younger man. “If I were going to 'pull anything', you wouldn't notice it anyway.” 

The game continued on, though Heyes had to admit to himself that the fun had been smothered out of the evening by the arrival of the thorn in his side. Not wanting to leave for the evening just yet, he decided to get up to some of his old tricks. He had been focusing on not winning too much, but once Cedric had joined the group, his play had taken on a slightly different challenge. He continued to win small amounts here and there, but he also thought it might be a fitting diversion to ensure that Cedric lost on a regular basis.

Unfortunately for Heyes' sense of fun, nothing he could do was changing the way the cards were falling. His efforts were all for nought, as Cedric's poker playing skills were so bad that he was doing a fine job of losing every hand he played all on his own. Finally, after five hands had been played, Cedric lost his temper and slammed his hand onto the table, causing a number of community chips to rattle and scattered across the playing field.

Most of the players jumped at the sudden attack, and glared at Cedric for being a spoil sport. Heyes sat quietly, but sent him a bemused smile.

“Something wrong, Cedric?”

“I'll say something's wrong!” Cedric snapped and pointed an accusing finger at his antagonist. “I don't know how you're doing it, but you're deliberately stacking the cards against me.”

“I assure you Cedric, I'm not doing anything,” Heyes smooth talked. “You don't need me to help you lose—you're doing just fine all on your own.”

“You lying, thieving bastard!” Cedric growled, and came to his feet, making a lounge for Heyes from across the table.

Chairs scrapped the floor as they scattered in all directions. The other players at the table jumped in to assist and Ted and Mike soon had frustrated Cedric in an arm lock.

“C'mon, settle down!” Ted told him. “Nobody's cheatin' here son. You just don't know how to play poker.”

“There's nothing wrong with my poker playing!” Cedric insisted as he struggled against the strong arms holding him back. “He's stacking the deck against me!”

“Did anybody here notice any cheating?” Ted asked around.

“Nope,” Rydal answered.

“Me neither,” Mike agreed.

“Oh come on!” Cedric continued to rant. “He as much as admitted that he could cheat me without anyone noticing! If that ain't an admittance of intent...”

“Seems to me, he'd be pretty stupid to come right out and say that, if he was plannin' on cheatin' ya',” Mike pointed out. “One of the many things I've heard about Hannibal Heyes is that he ain't no fool.”

“No, he isn't a fool,” Cedric sneered as he glared daggers at Heyes, who was standing quietly to see which way this was going to go. “but he sure is playing you lot for ones. Dumber than a stock yard full of beeves, the whole bunch of you. He knew darn well that if he said he was going to cheat, then nobody would believe that he actually would, so nobody would be looking for it! What better time to strike than right after lulling you all into a false sense of security? Yeah, he's dumb like a fox, this one is. The rest of you are just plain dumb.”

The silence throughout the establishment was replaced with a low grumbling, as many of the men grew tired of this Northern city slicker coming into their saloon and insulting everybody. Tensions started to rise and everyone's focus was on the disrupted poker table.

Heyes smiled, though no humour reached his eyes. The townsfolk weren't the only ones getting tired of this little upstart. 

“Maybe you should go on back to your hotel room, Cedric,” he quietly suggested. “It's getting late anyway.”

“I'm not going anywhere until I get back the money I lost here,” Cedric insisted. “I want every red penny you stole.”

Heyes' dimples broke through.

“Every red penny?” he tried to clarify. “Well let's see, I guess I started thievin' when I was around fifteen, or no, there were those cookies I stole when I was twelve. Ah but then, your demand suggested you only want the money, so cookies wouldn't count. So..yes, that would make me around fifteen. It was ten cents, I think. It was so long ago, it's hard to remember...since then, of course, the amounts have gotten larger. I'd probably have to take some time to calculate the amount, give or take a few thousand. Can I get back to you on that?”

The grumbling changed to chuckling as the tension eased. Soon, everyone was having a good laugh over it, that is except Cedric, whose mood was only getting darker.

“He's got you all suckered in,” Cedric sneered. “Yeah, the old con man up to his same tricks. Silver tongue, that's what they say, isn't it? Five years in prison didn't seem to teach you a thing.”

Heyes' jaw tightened, and he felt his right fist clench despite his efforts to not rise to the bait. Fortunately Ted stepped in again.

“Hey, no need for that,” he told Cedric. “He done his time. Leave the man alone.”

Cedric looked around him, and found himself to be outnumbered. He shook his head in bewilderment that these people were actually siding with a convicted con man and thief. Even the sheriff of this backward town was apparently oblivious to the threat. Why, he'd even had Heyes in his jail cell, yet still wound up opening the door, and the border, and setting him free. The Southwest really was backward in their thinking.

As things appeared to be calming down again, many of the other patrons returned to their own conversations and beer. Casual chatter took over again and Heyes relaxed. The other fellas as his table turned back to their own chips and began to gather them up.

“I think I'm going to call it a night,” Mike announced. “Early morning tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Rydal agreed. “That's enough excitement for one night.”

“Okay fellas,” Ted responded. “Good game. See ya all next time around.”

“Sorry to cause a problem,” Heyes told them all. “but you're right. Time to settle up. I should get back to my wife anyway.”

Cedric didn't seem to know when to keep his mouth shut, and he snorted with distain.

“Wife,” he sneered. “I sure do find it interesting that you claim to be on your honeymoon, yet your wife is already in the family way. I think we know what kind of woman...”

Even though Cedric was looking right at Heyes, he still failed to see the punch coming. Heyes didn't so much explode as he did pop. His right arm streaked out like a blue blur, and the clenched fist bopped Cedric right between the eyes. The surprised look that flashed out from either side of the knuckles only lasted a heartbeat, and then the eyes rolled back and he flopped down into one of the chairs behind him. He struggled to stay in it, and he made a frantic grab for the arm, but his weight capsized it, and the whole parcel clattered to the floor.

A number of appreciative whistles, mingled with laughter took over as Ted and Mike each grabbed an arm and hauled an extremely dazed Cedric back up and into another chair.

“Wooeee!” Rydal laughed. “That was some punch. He's gonna have a hard time explainin' that one to the missus.”

Ted was laughing along with everyone else, and he clapped Cedric a couple of times on the shoulder, all in good sport.

“You ain't too bright there, are ya' lad?” he cajoled. “You're gonna have one hum dinger of a headache come morning. Yessiree.”

“Not to mention, a black eye or two,” Rydal added his opinion.

Some of the other patrons came over to shake Heyes' hand or to give him a friendly slap on the shoulder.

“That was one way ta' shut 'im up!”

“Fastest punch I ever seen. Glad I weren't on the recievin' end of it.”

“Thanks for some fine entertainment. And here I thought it was gonna be a quiet night.”

“Good thing Nugent's gone home to bed by now. That Charlie's about as alert as a sow bear in winter.”

“Oh, the sheriff.” Heyes instantly perked up and concern crossed his features. “I'd forgotten about him.”

“Aw, don't worry about it,” Ted assured him. “If this little weasel tries to cause trouble, we'll vouch for ya'. We all saw what happened, didn't be boys!”

A resounding 'YEAH!' took over the room, and Ted gave Heyes another slap on the shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said. “The game's over with, but let's say we all have one more beer before we call it a night? The women folk are probably all asleep by now anyway!”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Rydal agreed.

Heyes grinned and nodded.

“Okay,” he agreed. “That's a fine idea.”

They all settled in around the table again and beers were ordered lickidy split. Everyone was in a jovial mood, and Heyes joined right in with the laughter and the jokes. One beer turned into two, and nobody noticed as Cedric slowly slid down off his chair and wilted onto the floor.

Xxx

Cedric stood in the sheriff's office, his eyes like black daggers squinting against the thumping behind his nose. He had adopted an aggressive stance with hands on hips and lips tight with frustration. Nugent sat back in his chair, looking bored.

“You meant to tell me you're not even going to do anything about it?”

“That's right,” Nugent confirmed as he stifled a yawn. “I've heard all about what happened, and you're the one who started the trouble in the first place. Everything was fine until you showed up and started throwing around accusations. If I was going to arrest anyone, it'd be you.”

Cedric puffed up and flustered. “Me!?” he exclaimed, then cringed as the throbbing increased. “I'm a respectable citizen and that man's a known criminal!”

“Ex-criminal.”

“Card sharp!”

“Professional gambler.”

“Con artist!”

“Astute business man.”

“I don't believe this!” Cedric continued, all in an uproar and ignoring the thumping in his head. He wondered briefly if his nose had started to bleed again. “That man's a common thief!”

“Mr. Soames,” Nugent placated this irritant as best he could. “Mr. Heyes has paid his debt. The governor of Wyoming himself, gave him an unconditional pardon. He's just as much a free man as you are. And from what I can see, he's doing his best to make good on it. Leave the man alone.”

Cedric harrumphed. “The day a man like that can just walk in to a respectable establishment without anyone...”

“It's a saloon!” Nugent pointed out. “Not the private club for the Cattleman's Association! What did you expect?”

“Well, a bit of decorum at least!”

Nugent sighed. This was going nowhere.

“Listen,” he finally said. “obviously you know who he is, right?”

“Of course! That's the whole point!”

Nugent waved a hand to cut off the extended protest, and continued with his observation. “So you know who he is. Therefore, it stands to reason that you know what he has done, and, more to the point, what he is still capable of doing. For God's sake man! He was successful enough at what he did to be at the top of Wyoming's most wanted list for ten years running. He ruled over a gang of men who did not respect the law and, by definition, weren't too willing to submit to any form of authority. Yet he ran it smoothly. He turned it from a bunch of penny anti miscreants to an organized, well running machine.

“To control brutal men, you have to be brutal yourself. It doesn't matter how smart you are, or how easily you can open a safe, sooner or later, men like that are going to challenge you for leadership. You either pound them back into submission or you'll be ground into the dirt yourself. Do you see where I'm going with this?”

“You're supporting exactly what I have been saying all along!” Cedric insisted, his frustration growing. “He's a dangerous man! So why..?”

Nugent shook his head again, indicating that Cedric was continuing to miss the point. “What I'm saying is, you know what kind of a man he is, or at least what he used to be.”

“Yes!”

“And yet, you insisted on taking a stick and poking it at the lion!” Nugent emphasized. “Dammit! He wasn't even a caged lion! And you insulted his wife!? What the hell did you expect would happen?”

Cedric stood stock still, blinking with his own surprise. He moved his mouth a couple of times in an attempt to offer a protest, but nothing came out.

“Go on, get out of here,” Nugent continued. “or you're going to miss your damn train!”

Xxx

“Hannibal, will you stop staring out that window?” Miranda pleaded as she got their belongings organized for the continuation of their journey. “Nobody's coming for you.”

“The first thing Cedric did this morning was run to the sheriff's office,” Heyes pointed out. “If that little weasel causes me more trouble in this town, I'll wring his scrawny little neck.”

“Well, perhaps if you hadn't punched him in the face last night, you wouldn't have to worry about it now.”

Heyes sighed. “He was being insufferable. Then he insulted you.”

“I'm a big girl,” Miranda reminded him. “I think I can handle some fool making insinuations.”

“That's not the point.”

Miranda came over and snuggled in beside her husband.

“I know,” she said, as he smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “the point is, you are supposed to be staying out of trouble. You simply can't go around punching people just because they insult you. Or me, for that matter.”

“Yeah,” Heyes grudgingly agreed. “I suppose you have a point.”

She rested her head against his chest as they both peered out the second storey window and surveyed the busy street below them. People were leaving the hotel and making their way across the traffic, towards the station in anticipation of catching the northbound train.

“Oh look,” Miranda pointed. “There go Cedric and Lois. My, but he does seem to be in a hurry to get out of town.”

“Hmm. Perhaps his meeting with Nugent didn't go so well, after all.”

“See?” Miranda teased. “You get all worked up over nothing.” 

Then she frowned as she watched Lois struggle with her bag, lose control of it, and drop it in the middle of the street. Even up in their room, the couple could hear Cedric yelling at her as he came back, grabbed her arm, and began to drag her towards the boardwalk. Lois protested as she snatched up her fallen bag, and scrambled to keep up with her husband.

A low growl rumbled in Heyes' chest as Cedric and then Lois disappeared into the depot. 

“Still sorry I punched him?” he asked his wife.

“I didn't say I was sorry that you did it,” Miranda clarified. “Simply that you really shouldn't.. Still, poor Lois. She really is a sweet little thing, but she's going to have to start standing up for herself with poor choice of a husband.”

“She'll work it out,” Heyes prophisized. “She's timid now, but I have a feeling ole' Cedric's going to push his advantage too far, and then he'll have real trouble on his hands.”

“I hope so!” Miranda responded. “Nobody would deserve it more.”

Heyes' shoulders slumped, and Miranda's focus was diverted.

“What?” she asked.

Heyes pointed down the street. “Here comes Nugent.”

“Oh.” Miranda had spotted him as well. She marvelled at how the lawman always looked so pristine in this hot climate. Always wearing the string tie and waist-coat, no matter what the temperature, and always looking comfortable while doing it. “I'm sure he's just doing his morning rounds,” she continued. “He'll walk on by.”

The couple stood quietly, watching the sheriff's progress along the boardwalk. He got to the entrance of the hotel, and sure enough, he made a quick turn and disappeared through the front door.

Both of them groaned.

“Might as well get unpacked,” Heyes grumbled. “Doesn't look like we're going anywhere for a while.”

 

It seemed to take an eternity for the anticipated knock to sound on the door to their room, but when it did come, neither of them wanted to answer it. Finally Miranda gave in to the pressure, and taking hold of the door knob, she took a breath to prepare herself, and then opened the door.

“‘Morning ma’am,” Nugent tipped his hat.

“Oh, good morning Sheriff,” she responded appropriately. “How nice to see you again.”

“Hmm. Is your husband in?”

Heyes stepped into view and took over the conversation.

“Good morning,” he greeted the lawman with as much joviality as he could muster. “Come in. We’re just getting ready to catch the Eastbound train. We don’t want to miss it.” 

“You still have a few hours before it pulls in,” Nugent commented. “I just need a few moments  
of your time.”

Hannibal and Miranda exchanged a quick glance. This was sounding promising. A few moments was a far cry better than a few days.

“Certainly,” Heyes agreed. “What’s on your mind?”

“I think you know what’s on my mind, Mr. Heyes,” Nugent told him. “It seems you got yourself  
involved in a little altercation last night.”

“Well, yes. I suppose I did.” Heyes agreed. “But it really wasn’t my fault.”

“Trouble just seems to follow you, doesn’t it?”

Heyes smiled, but it was sadness that took over his eyes, not mirth.

“It does seem to,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, Sheriff. I did try to let it go, but then he…”

Nugent raised a hand to stop him. “I know,” he assured him. “Mr. Soames was asking for it. Fortunately for you, there were a number of witnesses to the incident. Actually, there were quite a number of witnesses, and most of them came forward before Mr. Soames even had the opportunity to lodge his complaint. Dammit, sometimes a man can’t even have breakfast before his job takes over the day. It’s one thing to not get to my eggs before they’re cold, but to not even get a mouthful of hot coffee, well, that puts me in a very foul mood. I’m afraid by the time Mr. Soames got to me, he was already bogged down in mud.”

“Oh.”

“I just need to get your take on things, Mr. Heyes, that’s all,” Nugent assured him. “I encouraged Mr. Soames to let the whole thing slide, that he should just see as one of those little life lessons, and leave it at that. He wisely accepted my point of view.”

“That was big of him,” Heyes commented dryly.

“Not really,” Nugent grumbled. “Still, if you can just give me a short version of the way you saw  
it, then we can all get on with out day.”

“Yes sir,” Heyes agreed, feeling very much relieved by this time. “Ah, let’s see. Miranda wasn’t feeling well last night and wanted some quiet time, to rest. I went over to the saloon for a drink, and to play some poker, just for fun, of course.”

“Yes, of course.”

“It was a good game,” Heyes continued. “The local fellas were friendly and the stakes were low, so no pressure. It was relaxing. Then, unfortunately, Mr. Soames showed up and started to harass me.”

“Any particular reason why he would do that?” Nugent asked.

“We all came down on the train together,” Heyes explained. “When your deputy interrupted our supper to bring me over to your office, Mr. Soames became suspicious of my identity, and got himself on a roll from there. We were able to avoid them while in Santa Marta, but unfortunately, we ended up on the coach coming back here. For some reason, he seems to think that I’d fair game, and wasn’t about to let up.”

“So, you never met him before coming down here on the train?” Nugent asked. “There was no reason for him to feel a grudge against you?”

“Not that I know of, Sheriff,” Heyes admitted. “Other than that I apparently didn’t spend enough time in prison to suit him, and he was going to make sure everyone knew it.”

“Yeah, okay. So, he joined the poker game and began to heckle you. Then what happened?”

“Well, the usual thing when a bad player continues to lose,” Heyes continued. “He began accusing me of cheating, and well, he was actually right about that.”

Nugent’s brows went up. “What?”

Heyes gave a winning smile. “Well you see, I had to, Sheriff. If I had been playing honest poker, I’d a wiped those local fellas out within the first hour. I wanted to play poker. If I had to cheat to make sure I didn’t win too much, well, I rightly didn’t see the harm in it.”

Nugent chuckled. “Yeah alright. Don’t quite know what the penalty would be for cheating in order to lose, so I guess we’ll just let that one go. So you were cheating with Soames as well?”

Heyes’ expression turned painful. “Aww, Sheriff, he was so bad at poker, it didn’t matter how hard I tried to lose to him, I couldn’t make it happen. But that still didn’t stop him from accusing me of it. But still, I was gonna let it go. I didn’t want to make for any more trouble here, but then he began insulting my wife…”

“Yes.” Nugent’s tone darkened, and he glanced over at Miranda. “There was certainly no call to be doing that, ma’am. I’m sorry it happened in my town.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Miranda told him. “I’m afraid it's a common hazard, being married to Hannibal. Some people refuse to let go of his past. Simply being his wife, puts me in the position of a person of low character. It’s happened more than once, and not just from men. I’m afraid women can be rather catty when it comes to things like that as well. I chose to believe that they are simply jealous.”

Nugent smiled. “I’m sure you have a valid point there, ma’am. Okay. This sounds pretty much like what the witnesses had to say. Thank you, Mr. Heyes. Enjoy the rest of your honeymoon.”

“Oh!” Heyes actually sounds surprised, then he smiled and the two men shook hands. “Thank you, Sheriff. We'll be on our way shortly. That is, as long as Dr. Shandal doesn't put in an appearance.”

“He tried!” Nugent informed them. “I headed him off though, and convinced him to let matters lie.”

Hannibal and Miranda locked gazes and both grinned.

“Ohhh,” was the combined response.

“We had wondered what happened to him,” Miranda admitted. “We spied him coming towards us yesterday, and we quickly ducked into the hotel. We were pleasantly surprised when he didn't follow us.”

“I take it that was you?” Heyes enquired.

“Yes,” Nugent acknowledged. “I don't think you'll be having any more problems from him.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Heyes said emphatically. “Now, as long as we don't run in to the Soames again, we should be alright.”

“Good luck to you,” Nugent bid them, and once again, tipped his hat to Miranda. “Ma'am.”

“Sheriff,” she responded with a bright smile. “Again, thank you so much.”

“My pleasure, ma'am.”

And with that, the lawman made his departure.

Heyes breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than I thought.”

“Well, since you generally tend to think the worst...”

“No, I don't,” the husband protested. “I'm just always prepared for the worst.”

Miranda smiled at his logic.

“Yes dear,” she placated as she took his arm. “Come on. I'm hungry. We have time for a nice leisurely lunch before our train leaves town.”

Xxx

It was an anxious group that awaited the train to arrive at the Brookswood station. Tricia was using it to get a break away from nursing duties, even if just for a few minutes. Beth and Bridget had had about enough of Isabelle and her friends for one day, and packing up the buttons, pearls and lace that had been all removed from the wedding dress, they had made a hasty exit with the excuse of meeting the train. Jed wanted first hand news of his cousin's situation and wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by.

Not many people were on the platform awaiting the train, so by the time the locomotive had passed the depot, and was coming to a halt and releasing steam, the greeting party had a clear path to the two passenger cars. Even before the doors had opened, Beth and Bridget were rubber necking the two cars in search of familiar faces.

“There they are!” Bridget announced and pointed to the second car.

It didn't take more encouragement than that, and the group was rushing towards the opening door. The two gentlemen in question were accosted before they had barely set foot upon the platform, and the questions and comments came at them like a Gatling gun.

“Thank goodness you're back!” Bridget declared, as she came in for a hug.

Steven smiled. “Well, this is a fine greeting. It's nice to be back.”

Tricia smiled up at her tall, handsome husband. “We've been counting the hours until this train would be due. I think we both would have had a nervous breakdown, if it had been running late.”

Bridget's eyes widen with agreement, and she nodded. “That's for sure! It's wonderful to have you back.”

“Nice to know you missed us,” Steven said. “The welcome home makes the trip away almost worth it.”

“We certainly did miss you,” Bridget emphasized. “You wouldn't believe what has been going on in town since you left. The Baird family has broken up and taken sides, Harry had a brief case of cold feet, and Isabelle is about driving me crazy with all this wedding stuff. Thank goodness you're back, so now we can get on it all, and get Harry and Isabelle out of town, and out of my hair!”

“Oh, yes please!” Beth added her opinion. “You wouldn't believe what her and her friends are trying to do to Mama's wedding dress! Actually, I'm not so sure it was a good idea to leave them in possession of it. Perhaps I should go back... .”

“We have all the pearls, Beth,” Bridget pointed out. “What more harm can they do?”

“Yes, I know.” Beth didn't sound convinced. “Still, you know what Isabelle gets like when she's got Eugenie and Gladys egging her on.”

“You left your mama's wedding dress alone with those three?” Jed asked, incredulously.

Now both Beth and Bridget were worried.

“Oh dear,” Bridget commented and bit into her lower lip. “Perhaps you should... .”

“Yes,” Beth agreed. “I'm going back. Oh! But I want to know how Hannibal is. Is he alright?”

“Yes!” David assured her. “He's fine. Go on and do what you need to do.”

“I'll fill ya' in, Darlin',” Jed assured her.

Beth was torn for an instant, but then decided that she couldn't leave the wedding dress alone, in the hands of those three conspirators.

“Yes, alright. I'll see you later.”

She reached up and gave her husband a kiss, and then scurried off, back towards the hotel. 

“Good heavens,” David commented. “Is the whole town going mad?”

“It's been crazy,” Jed admitted. “But not so much that I haven't been thinkin' about Heyes. What was it all about?”

“I'll say it's been crazy,” Tricia cut in on Jed's enquiry. “You would think that with the state Jesse's in, that he would be quiet. It's a relief when he's asleep, but once he's awake we all know about it. Belle says he's not usually like that when he's laid up, and he normally is a quiet natured man, but not this time. Maybe it's because he's not in his own home, but he has been driving me nuts for the last two days. Even Belle has been having a hard time keeping him still. Thank goodness you're back! You're going to send them home soon, aren't you? I swear, much longer with that man complaining, and I'm going to give him something to complain about!”

“How's Heyes doin'?” Jed asked again, once Tricia had stopped for air.

The two men exchanged glances, as their respective woman began hauling on them to get moving towards their residences, permanent and otherwise. This wasn't quite the welcome home they had expected.

“Hey!” Jed called after them as he hurried to catch up. “C'mon, give me somethin'!”

“He's fine,” Steven reiterated David's original assurence. “There was some issue over his lack of paperwork, but we got it sorted out. I expect he and Miranda are in Santa Marta by now.”

“You sure?” Jed asked. “Why did he need you there, David?”

David sighed, and turned to the anxious friend.

“Listen,” he said. “I'm tired, and I'm sure Steven is as well. Why don't you give us some time to clean up, and we can all meet at the hotel for dinner. We'll fill you in on all the details then.”

“Oh,” Jed responded. “Yeah, I suppose. It's just that I've already been waitin' for ages to find out what it was all about.”

“Then a few more hours won't kill you,” David pointed out. “As Steven said, he's fine. That should put your mind at ease for now.”

“Yeah, okay. I suppose you're right,” Jed agreed. 

“Besides,” Steven collaborated. “I expect Sheriff Jacobs will want to know about it all as well. I don't know about you, David, but I sure don't want to have to repeat myself.” David gave an emphatic nod. “So Jed, why don't you let Jacobs know that we all plan to meet for dinner. That way, if he wants to know what happened, then we only have to explain it once.”

Jed still didn't seem too happy about the arrangement. He wanted to know now. But one glance at David and Steven, told him that it wasn't going to happen. And, he had to concede, they both did look travel weary. It made sense. Why repeat the same information over and over again, when they could all simply meet up at an appropriate time, and everyone get all the information at once.

“Alright,” Jed agreed again, only this time, he meant it. “I'll tell Jacobs. Harry will probably want to know as well. I doubt Belle will join us, she won't leave Jesse's side these days. So, around six, for dinner?”

“Sounds good,” David agreed, and he and Tricia hastily continued on their way.

“Works for us,” Steven agreed, and he and Bridget quickly followed the previous couple.

Quite suddenly, Jed found himself standing all by himself on the platform. He stopped there for a moment, looked around to find that everyone had left, then shook his head at his own stupidity. He left the depot, and headed towards the sheriff's office to deliver the message. Maybe Harry needed some company as well, if his fiance was busy with her wedding arrangements. Oh, that sure spoke loud and clear at how bored Jed was, if he was actually thinking of seeking out the detective's company. Wonders never ceased.

Having left the train depot, the two couples parted and carried on to their respective destinations.  
Bridget was smiling brightly, her left arm intertwined with her husband’s right one, as she practically skipped along beside him. Steven himself wasn’t feeling quite so elated.

“What do you mean, Isabelle is staying in our room?” he asked in a tone that suggested disbelief.

“It just for one more night,” Bridget assured him. “Her father wouldn't let her come home, and she needed a place to stay.”

“But our room?” came the protest. “I was anticipating a private evening with my wife. Why can’t she go and stay with Mrs. Reece? She’s still on her own, isn’t she?”

“No, sorry Dear,” Bridget informed him. “Mr. Reece was released from bondage this morning, and is back at the hotel again.”

Steven sighed in disappointment.

“Maybe you can stay over at David’s, or perhaps at Hannibal’s house,” Bridget suggested. “It’s just for one more night. With you and David home now, the wedding can go ahead as planned for tomorrow, and things can start getting back to normal.”

Steven grumbled under his breath. He wasn’t happy about this arrangement at all.

“What about her friends?” he asked. “Can't either of them put her up for tonight?”

“Neither of them offered,” Bridget grumbled. “Perhaps their husband's aren't as understanding as you are.”

“Good try, Bridget,” Steven commented dryly. “Surely there's room at Hannibal's place?”

“With all the children running around there?” Bridget was incredulous. “I'm not sure who would murder whom first.”

“It'd be good exposure for her,” Steven suggested. “A good taste of married life, before getting married.”

Come on,” Bridget encouraged him. “Please be understanding. If you had seen the way her father treated her, right out here in the middle of the street, you would have taken pity on her too.”

“What exactly did happen with that?” Steven asked, as he eyed his wife’s face. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that bruising on your cheek. I’m afraid that using makeup to try and cover up signs of an injury are too common a practice for a lawyer not to notice.”

“Oh.” Bridget sounded disappointed. “I suppose I should have known you’d see right through that.”

“Mm hmm. So, what happened?”

Bridget sighed dramatically. She really was hoping to put off going into this.

“Well,” she began. “When Mr. Baird started hitting Isabelle right there in the front of the mercantile, I tried to help her, and kind of got in the way.”

Steven stopped in his tracks, his jaw tightening in an ominous manner. “Do you mean to tell me that Baird hit you?”

“Well, he got caught up in the moment,” Bridget protested. “I really shouldn’t have…”

“God Damn that bastard!” Steven cursed. “Who the hell does he think he is! He’s got no idea how much trouble is headed his way! Does your father know about this?”

“No!” Bridget told him. “And I don’t want him to, at least not yet. Not until he’s on his feet. He needs to rest, and once he finds out about this, he won’t rest.”

“No fooling!” Steven agreed. “That bastard!”

“Please,” Bridget continued, feeling a little unnerved by her husband's course language. “Let’s get the wedding done with first, okay? Let Isabelle have her day, then we can worry about her father. Besides, I don’t think she’s laid charges against him, so there may not be anything you can do about it anyway.”

“Believe me, Bridget,” her husband assured her. “once your father hears about this, something will get done about it. And it's not just Isabelle who can lay charges you know. That man struck you as well.”

“I know,” Bridget conceded. “I just don't want to ruin Isabelle's wedding for her. Let's discuss it later.”

The couple began walking towards the hotel again, when Beth came running out of the entrance, looking all flustered and pale around the gills.

“Beth!” Bridget called to her. “What's the matter?”

“They're gone!” Beth wailed. “I went up to your room, and they're all gone. And they took the dress with them!”

“Oh no!” Bridget exclaimed. “What are they up to now!”

Then another unexpected sight stopped them just as the two ladies hurried along, towards the boardwalk. 

Isabelle, along with Gladys and Eugenie were gaily making an exit from the hotel lobby and very nearly bumped in to the two ladies as they converged on the entrance at the same time. Steven had wisely stood back to let this little drama play out without his involvement.  
The three ladies were giggling and carrying on no end, even though the numerous boxes and feathers and lace and material gathered in their arms were doing a wonderful job of hiding them from casual eyes.

“Oh!” Bridget exclaimed. “Good heavens! Where are you all off to?”

“There you are, Beth!” Isabelle exclaimed. “You silly thing. We tried to get your attention but you're such a scatter brain! Didn't you hear us calling you?”

“What do you mean?” Beth asked her. “I looked all over the lobby. You weren't there!”

“Of course we were,” Eugenie insisted. “You simply didn't see us.”

Beth pursed her lips. She knew darn well, they hadn't been in the lobby. She strongly suspected they had intentionally avoided her, and were now putting on the innocent act to it cover up since they'd had the misfortune of running into the older sister instead.

“But where are you going?” Bridget asked again. “You all said that it was best for Isabelle to stay at the hotel.”

“Don't be so silly, Bridget!” Isabelle told her. “How could I possibly continue to stay in your hotel room with your husband coming back?”

“We could have made other arrangements,” Bridget assured her. “Steven was goin to stay over at Hannibal's place. It was only for one more night.”

The three ladies broke up into hysterical laughter. Bridget and Steven exchanged looks, and pedestrians found another way around the hotel entrance.

“Isabelle will spend the night at my place!” Gladys announced smugly. “How silly of you to think otherwise. What better place for the bride-to-be on the eve of her wedding day, than with her friends?”

“We've got everything we need, right here,” Eugenie added. “I can do her hair, and Gladys will do her makeup. We'll have our own little hen party! Oh, you can come over in the morning if you want to, Bridget. I'm sure you'll be able to help us with the dress.”

“Yes, do come over in the morning, Bridget,” Isabelle agreed. “And of course Beth, you can come along too, if you'd like. Bye!”

And with that, the three ladies, layered and top heavy with wedding apparel, bounced along their way, heading towards Gladys' home.

Bridget stood speechless, hardly believing what she had just witnessed. When she finally did find her voice, her lips tightened, and she stamped her foot with indignation.

“Well, I never!” she exclaimed. “After everything I've been doing for her, and this is the thanks I get! We're even letting her wear our wedding dress!”

Xxx

“I will be gratefully happy to get home,” David admitted. “I am so tired.”

“I'm not surprised,” Tricia told him. “Your telegram suggested that everything got worked out though. Are Hannibal and Miranda on their way again?”

“They better be!” David exclaimed. “He gets himself into any more trouble and he can find his own way out of it.”

“I'm sure they'll be fine,” Tricia said. “Miranda will look after him.”

“Anything new come up while I was away?”

“Hmm, well...”

David sighed, almost not wanting to hear about it, but needing to, none the less.

“What?” he asked.

“Jed and Sam found Ben,” Tricia informed him. “They took him to John's place, but he was so badly burned that John sent him on to the hospital in Denver.”

“Ohh,” David groaned. “Dammit. I should have been here.” He stopped and looked back in the direction of John's house. “Dammit,” he repeated.

“You can't be everywhere at once,” Tricia reasoned. “You didn't know they were going to find Ben. But you did know that Hannibal needed your help. You made the right decision.”

“Yes, I know. You're right,” David agreed. “But I wish I had known. We came right through Denver on our way back here. I could have stopped in to see how he was.”

“You're not the only doctor in the West, David,” Tricia reminded him. “I'm sure he's being well looked after. His mother is there with him as well, so he's not all alone. Besides, you have patients here who need you. Jesse's the worst off, but there are still some of the fellas, who have been able to go home, who still need some attention.”

“John can see to them,” David commented absently, his mind still on Ben. “And doing a fine job. But Ben—if I had been here, I might have been able to help him. A trip to Denver would not have been easy for him...if I'd just stayed...”

“Are you saying that Hannibal didn't need your help after all?” Tricia asked him. “That you wasted your time, going to Yuma.”

“No,” David admitted. “Hannibal was in a plight for sure. The sheriff there had detained him, because he didn't have his papers with him, and word hadn't reached the boarder towns concerning his pardon. He had another seizure...”

“Oh no.”

“Yes. And the doctor there still holds to the belief that epilepsy is a dangerous disease that can be spread from person to person, and that if Hannibal wasn't already criminally insane, then he would be soon. He was trying to have our friend committed. You can imagine how Hannibal felt about that.”

“Yes!” Tricia was adamant. “He must have been walking a trench in his cell floor.”

“Yes.”

“So there, you see?” Tricia pointed out. “You made the right choice in going to Yuma. You don't even know if you could have helped Ben here. But you did help Hannibal. So stop second guessing yourself—again!”

“Yes, alright,” David conceded, know when he was beat. “So how is Jesse doing? Complaining aside.”

“About as to be expected,” Tricia informed him. “He does sleep most of the time, and Belle has taken over most of his care, so he really hasn't been an imposition. I was just teasing you. I just think he would rather be at home.”

“I'm sure,” David agreed dryly. “I'll check in on him as soon as we get home. I'll also get in touch with the hospital later,and find out how Ben is doing. Anything else?”

“Just that old man Baird had a domestic dispute with Isabelle out in front of the mercantile the other day.” Tricia informed him. “Pretty much disowned her, and threw her out of the house. Hit her a couple of times too. It took Joe, with some help from Jed and Harry to break it up.”

“Oh dear,” David groaned. “I was afraid it was going to come to that eventually. I've had more than one 'friendly' conversation with Baird about the way he treats his daughter, but well, you know how far those got me.”

“Yes,” Tricia commented. “I recall you coming home, looking a little bruised yourself, on one of those occasions. I must admit, after that, I was hoping you'd stay away from the man.”

“I know,” David concurred. “but I had to try. Same with Carl. We both tried to talk reason to that old coot, but he was having none of it. So, he's finally gone and run her off, has he? Hopefully she'll find a better life with Harry. And that sure is saying a lot about what her life has been like, up till now.”

“Yes,” Tricia agreed. “Though I must admit, I'd feel a lot more sympathetic to her situation, if she wasn't such a snitty little thing. Nothing seems good enough for her. I sure hope Harry knows what he's getting into.”

“I'm pleased to announce that that is Harry's problem,” David said. “I'm too tired to worry about it.”

As they approached the entrance to their home, the front door banged open and Nathan came bounding out and down the stairs.

“Papa!” came the excited greeting as the boy jumped into his father's arms.

All the tiredness from David's eyes lifted at the sight of the boy running towards him. He dropped the one bag of luggage, and scooped the child up to give him a big bear hug.

“Here's the man of the house!” David greeted him. “Have you been a good boy while I've been away?” 

“Yes, Papa!” Nathan assured his pa. “I made sure to always stay out from under mama's feet.”

“You did?” David asked him. 

“Yes!”

“And I'm sure you had a good time doing it, too.”

“Yes!”

“Good boy.”

“But do I really have to wear that silly suit again tomorrow?”

“Yes you do,” David informed him. “You know we always dress nicely for church and for weddings.”

“Aww,” the child whined. “I don't want to.”

“Oh Nathan,” Tricia reprimanded him. “Your papa is tired. Leave him be. Besides, we've already been over this. It'll just be for a couple of hours.”

“But...”

“Listen to your mama,” David told him. “You might be the man of the house while I'm away, but your mama is still the boss.”

“Yes, Papa.”

David set the boy back down onto his feet, and gave him a pat to send him back up the steps. Picking up his baggage, David smiled at his wife, and they came up onto the porch together. The enticing aroma of a meal in preparation really made David feel like he was coming home, and suddenly he was quite hungry.

Merle was sitting at the kitchen table, doing some darning, while Belle was just in the process of spooning out some chicken soup from the large pot on the stove. Both ladies smiled up at the doctor's return.

“Hello, David,” Merle greeted him. “Impeccable timing. Just in time for lunch.”

“Yes,” David agreed. “That was well planned, wasn't it? How is our patient doing?”

“He's resting,” Belle told him. “I think he would be more comfortable in his own bed though.”

“I'm sure he would,” David agreed. “but we can't move him, not yet. “Let's give him another week, and if he feels up to the ride out to the ranch, I might consider it. His injuries were substantial, you know that. Moving him too soon would only make things worse.”

“I know,” Belle assured him. “I just feel we're in your way here. Beth and I can take care of him at home, just as well as we can here.”

David shook his head. “I want to be able to keep an eye on him for a little while longer,” he told her. “The trip to Yuma couldn't be helped, and I knew that Tricia was here to take care of things. But moving him out to the ranch, where there was no medical supervision would not be a good idea at this time.”

“Oh David!” Belle admonished him. “You make it sound like I've never had to take care of an invalid before. I'm sure Beth and I could handle it, and you could still come by every other day to check up on us.”

“I'm not saying you couldn't handle it, Belle,” David clarified. “I know you are quite capable. My only real opposition to it, is that I don't want to move him yet. You and J.J. are welcome to stay here until he's doing better. In fact, I insist.”

Belle gave it up. She knew David well enough to know that he wasn't going to budge on this.

“Alright, David,” she agreed. “And I suppose the children are all having a good time, playing together. J.J. does get awfully lonely out at the ranch, with no other children around to play with. He and Todd and Nathan don't usually show up back here until it's supper time.”

David smiled, certain that Belle was not overly exaggerating.

“And what a lovely break that is,” Merle commented. “Nothing more frustrating than to have a bunch of children under foot while you're trying to get things done. Though I notice Sally tends to stay close to her grandpa. What a darling child she is; so sweet natured.”

“Yes,” Belle agreed, and smiled fondly. “And she does love her grandpa.”

“Well,” Tricia put in. “I think she loves her grandma too. And speaking of children, I do believe I hear our daughter wanting some attention. Excuse me for a moment.”

Tricia headed towards the back bedroom, picking up David's one bag of luggage as she went.

“Sit down and have some lunch,” Merle told David. “You must be tired after that boring train ride.”

“Yes,” David agreed, wistfully. “But, I want to check up on my patient first.”

“He's resting,” Merle assured him. “Surely he can wait until you've had something to eat.”

“I'll just be a moment,” David told her, and left the kitchen for the spare bedroom.

Merle and Belle exchanged knowing glances. David always did put his patients first.

David moved moved quietly into the bedroom and gently closed the door behind him. Pulling up the chair so that it was next to the bed, he sat down and gave his patient a through visual scrutiny. Jesse stirred, knowing that someone was in the room with him, and he tried to force his eyes open. David put a hand on his arm to assist him in coming to wakefulness.

“Jesse,” David greeted him quietly. 

Jesse did open his eyes then, and swallowed painfully. His throat was still so sore.

“David,” he responded in a hoarse whisper. “Belle said you wouldn't be back for a couple of days yet.”

“I expect that was a couple of days ago,” David informed him. “You want some water?”

Jesse nodded, and David assisted him with a drink. That done, Jesse settled back again, and the doctor took a close look at his patient.

“You are looking a little better than the last time I saw you,” David surmised. “Not quite as shocky. Have you been eating anything?”

Jesse groaned. “Belle has forced some broth down my throat. But it hurts to swallow.”

“I'm sure it does,” David agreed. “That should ease up soon. Everyone in town has a sore throat these days.”

Jesse raised a brow, and almost chuckled but it turned in to a grimace instead.

David moved in a little closer and put his knowledgeable fingers to work.

“Well, you don't feel feverish,” he noted. “That's a good sign. Let me just pull away the bed sheet here, so I can see your hand. Hmm, color's good. It's a bit swollen, but that's not surprising.” He stood up and gently pulled the sheet away from the left foot as well, and checked it for color and temperature. “Well, that's quite swollen also.” Then David took his thumb nail and pressed it into the skin in the sensitive arch of the foot. Jesse tensed and tried to send David a nasty look. It wasn't very effective, but David got the message. He smiled. “Did that hurt?”

“Yes, it did,” Jesse answered, pointedly.

“Good,” David replied, irritatingly.

Jesse groaned. “David, sometimes...”

“Yes, I know.” David covered the foot back up again, and returned to the chair. “Trich tells me that you've been a bit of a tyrant when you're awake. Personally I don't see how you could have the strength, but Tricia doesn't usually exaggerate.”

Jesse almost smiled. “I think she exaggerates.”

“I know you're not used to being laid up like this,” David told him. “But you really do need to take the time to heal. I told Belle that we could try and get you back home again, once you're feeling a bit better, but in the mean time, you're welcome to stay here. In fact, I...”

“Insist,” Jesse weakly finished the statement for him.

David smiled. “Yes.”

“How long?”

“At least another week or two.”

Jesse groaned.

“And even after that, you're going to be laid up for a while,” David continued. “These are not minor injuries, Jesse. And I'm sorry, but you're not a young man anymore. It's going to take quite a while for you to recover from this. And only time will tell how much you'll recover.”

“What do you mean?” Jesse asked him.

“Well,” David explained. “You still have good feeling in your foot, so it's not paralysed, but how much mobility you'll get back remains to be seen. I'll help you, of course, and hopefully we'll get you up and walking again. I doubt you'll ever ride again, though.”

Jesse groaned again. “What good is a rancher who can't ride?”

“Just as good a rancher who can ride,” David insisted. “You already delegate most of that work to your hired hands anyway, and focus more on the running of the business through the paperwork. It'll take some adjustment, I know. But you're lucky to be alive, Jesse. Try to focus on that.”

“I know,” Jesse agreed. “When that horse came down on top of me, I thought for sure I was dead. It's a miracle Jed and Sam found me at all.”

“Thanks to Allie.”

“Yes. Thanks to Allie.”

“So,” David concluded. “You take it easy. Give yourself time to heal. If you agree to take it slow and actually listen to what I tell you to do, you just might come out of this in once piece. Alright?”

Jesse tried a smile. “Alright, boss.”

“Good!” David said, and he stood up. “Now I'm hungry, and tired, so I will leave you. I expect Belle will be in momentarily with some broth. Please try to swallow some of it.” 

Jesse sighed as deeply as he could, with his broken ribs all taped up the way they were. He nodded, but closed his eyes and began to drift off to sleep again. 

Xxx

It was quite a group of friends who met up at the restaurant for dinner that evening. Many of the attendees had both personal and professional interests in what was going on with Mr. Heyes, and everyone was eager for news. On top of that, it was a good excuse for everybody to get together for dinner before the festivities of the next day took over the limelight.

Although, by the way Harry was moaning and groaning about the state of affairs for his wedding day, one might think that the whole affair might be called off after all.

“Have you seen the state of the church?” he complained to the group. “How can we have a weddin' in there, when it still smells like wood smoke?”

“Have it outside,” Jed suggested, reasonably. “I expect it's gonna be a fine day.”

“The wood smoke is even worse out 'a doors!” Harry expostulated. “It just don't seem right. I promised my Peaches a church weddin'. It's only fit and proper.”

“Steven and I were married outside,” Bridget pointed out. “So were Beth and Jed. What's wrong with it?”

“Oh. Well...” Harry was instantly tongue tied, now that he'd been called on his opinion. “Nothin', I guess. It just weren't what we were plannin', that's all.”

“Considering the circumstances, you might just have to take what you can get,” David pointed out. “This town has been through a hard time. Having an outdoor wedding might be just what it needs.”

“Yes!” Isabelle suddenly joined the conversation. “Our wedding will be something special! Far more meaningful than any of the other weddings of late. It'll bring something fun and positive to everyone in town, if they can be part of our wedding.”

“Well yes, you have a point there,” Harry agreed, and puffed himself up with importance. “Why, it could be the turning point for a lot of folks in this town. What an excellent idea.”

“The reception can be in the town square,” Tricia suggested. “Many of us are already planning on bringing sandwiches and salads, so you don't have to worry about that. Personally, I think it's going to be a fun day for everyone.”

“Max Robertson says that his step-ma wants to contribute too,” Joe informed them. “Apparently ole' Floyd lost a couple of his pigs to the smoke, and he's already got them butchered and roasting in a pit. It should make for a fine wedding dinner.”

“Helena is such a lovely lady,” Joe's girlfriend, Pansy spoke up. “It took a lot of courage to leave behind everything she knew back East, to come out here just on the information of an advert in the papers. Then, marrying Mr. Robertson! My, what a brave woman!”

This statement elicited laughter from around the table.

“That's for sure!” Bridget agreed. “Those two children of his were running wild after their ma died. But Helena did wonders, getting those two back into shape.”

“She did a lot for Floyd as well,” David pointed out. “It was hard on him, losing his wife like that. Helena was a blessing, that's for sure.”

“Didn't Carl hire their son Max to be a junior deputy?” Jed asked.

“Yes!” Joe brightened up as he confirmed this. “The boy's working out quite well too.”

“Better watch out Joe,” David teased him. “The lad will be taking over your job, if you're not careful.”

“That would be alright,” Joe said. “I'm still thinking about going back East to take some courses in law enforcement.. I'd feel a lot better about it, if the sheriff had a new lad on the up swing.”

Pansy became quiet, and tired to hide her disappointment at Joe's announcement. Beth noted the change, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze under the table. The two ladies smiled at each other.

“That would be a wise choice,” Kenny assured the young deputy. “From what I have seen, and heard, you're a fine lawman. There are plenty of opportunities out there for a young man of your calibre.” 

“Oh Kenny,” Sarah teased him. “Are you trying to recruit him already? Don't you have enough guards out at the prison, already?”

Kenny laughed, then swallowed, as his throat still protested the action.

“I was thinking more along the lines of a warden,” he informed them. “Of course, putting in a few years as a guard would be good experience. By that time, the new prison in Rawlins will be in full swing. I doubt I'll be transferring over to it.”

“No?” Jed asked him. “You thinkin' about handin' in the bully club?”

Kenny sent him a look.

“Not just yet, Jed,” he assured him. “I still have sons in college. Besides, Laramie won't be ready to shut its doors quite yet. When it is, then I'll decide what we want to do.”

“It'll be nice, not to have to worry about you,” Sarah admitted. “The job has been good for us, but there's been a price to pay.”

“I know,” Kenny agreed.

“Is there any job that doesn't have its own inherent dangers?” Steven asked. “I've seen a lot of strange things in my profession. Doesn't seem to matter what a person does, there is always risk involved.”

“Yes, but some involve more risk than others,” Beth interjected. “I'm sure that being a private detective is far more risky than being the owner of the dry goods store.”

“You do have a point, “ Steven agreed. “I'm just saying, that life is a risk. The best you can do, is find something that you're good at, or if you're lucky, have a passion for, and go after it. I couldn't imagine not being a lawyer, nor David being anything other than a doctor.”

“Or Harry anything other than a detective,” Isabelle added as she gave her fiancee's arm a hug. “You'd be miserable doing anything else, wouldn't you, dear?”

“You're right about that, my sweet!” Harry agreed. “Why, I was born to be a detective. Couldn't imagine doing anything else.”

“And what about you, Jed?” Joe asked his friend. “You've done a number of different things in your life. Which one feels like the right one for you?”

“Ahh jeez,” Jed groaned as he looked around at all the eyes staring at him. “Heyes and I just kind'a fell in ta' whatever came our way. I gotta admit though, those years of runnin' Devil's Hole felt real good. Heyes and me had the bull by the horns livin' up there. It was a good life.”

“It couldn't have been that good,” Kenny pointed out. “You and Heyes decided to leave that sanctuary for a better life. You wouldn't have done that, if you had been content where you were.”

“Yeah, but we didn't know how hard it was going to be, Kenny,” Jed pointed out. “I doubt we would have even started on that little venture if'n we'd had any kind of a clue.”

“And where would that have got you?” Kenny pushed the point.

“Probably dead by now,” Jed answered point blank, and then he smiled, his blue eyes sparkling. “So I'm guessin' we made the right choice after all.”

Appreciative laughter went around the table again.

“That still doesn't answer my question, though,” Joe reminded him. “What do you think you would like to do now?”

“Well, it ain't ranchin', that's for sure!” Jed answered him, with a laugh.

“Aww!” Beth teased him. “But you've been doing such a fine job, helping to run the Double J, and now you even have shares in that whole new business venture.”

“And that's fine, as long as the real ranchers do all that work,” Jed told her. “I'm sorry, Darlin', but I weren't cut out to be a rancher! Heyes and me will tend to the securities, and whatever parolees Kenny deems fit to send our way. So, I guess that's it Joe. I think me and Heyes have found our nitch, ain't that right, Kenny?”

Kenny smiled and nodded.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I think you'll both do well, helping those young fellas coming out of prison and needing a helping hand. That's why I suggested it. And you've both already proven that you know enough about security and detective work to run your own business. You and Heyes are going to do alright for yourselves.”

“Yes,” Beth agreed. “I think so too.”

“Yeah, well,” Jed surmised. “It'll be interesting.”

“I'll be around to help you boys get started too,” Harry reminded them. “With me there, you fellas will have no problems at all getting established.”

“Uh huh,” Jed nodded, then continued. “Ah, speakin' of Heyes, wasn't this whole dinner idea so's you could fill us in on what he's doin'?”

David and Steven exchanged a glance across the table, as each waited for the other to go first.

“Well...” David began, then hesitated.

“What?” Jed was instantly apprehensive. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Jed,” Steven assured him. “I'm sure that he and Miranda are in Santa Marta by now.”

“Well that's good, ain't it?” Jed asked. “Everything's been cleared up.”

“Yes,” Steven agreed. “On the most part.”

Now Jed was really getting frustrated.

“What do you mean; on the most part!?”

Steven and David shared another glance, then Steven shrugged and gave it up.

“Well, I might as well start from the beginning,” he conjectured. “It's all rather ridiculous, actually.” 

“Uh huh,” Jed said, pointedly, as he awaited an explanation.

“Alright,” Steven began. “The first mistake Hannibal made was to leave on this journey without his pardon papers. It's been too recent, and the sheriff in Yuma hadn't been given notice of the changed situation. The last instructions he had received was to detain Heyes if he arrived in town and tried to leave the country.”

“His second mistake,” David contributed. “was to not take his serum with him.”

“What serum?” Harry asked.

“Ah, Heyes as a minor medical condition,” Jed reluctantly explained. “He's suppose ta' keep his medication with him all the time.”

“What medical condition?” Harry continued to push.

“It don't matter, Harry,” Jed pushed back. “It's just a precaution anyways.”

“But a good precaution, none the less,” David interjected. “As we suspected, he did indeed have another seizure.”

“Yes,” Steven concurred. “The sheriff wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but he did handle it well.”

“The sheriff?” asked Jed. “What did he have to do with it?”

“What kind of a seizure?” Harry asked.

“I can see, we are already getting ahead of ourselves here,” Steven observed. “Again, I will start at the beginning. Hannibal and Miranda arrived in town, and, I'm sure, minding their own business...” snort from Jed. “...but unfortunately, someone recognized him and reported his presence in town to the sheriff. The sheriff had no choice but to detain him...” A groan from Jed, this time. “...and start to send out telegrams to anyone who might be able to vouch for Hannibal's legal situation.”

“In the mean time,” David filled in. “Miranda had noticed that her husband had failed to bring his medication with him, and she made a visit to the local doctor, a Mr. Shandal. Unfortunately, Dr. Shandal is a little bit behind the times.”

“That's an understatement,” Steven commented.

“Yes,” David agreed. “Miranda's visit to the doctor sparked his interest, and he paid a visit to Hannibal over at the jailhouse. Unfortunately, Hannibal made slip of the fact that he did indeed suffer from seizures. Dr. Shandal was smart enough to conclude that Hannibal suffered from epilepsy, but not smart enough to have grown beyond the belief that the illness is contagious, and ultimately drives the victim criminally insane. He was on a campaign to have Hannibal committed to an insane asylum, and I believe it was only the common sense and tenacity for Sheriff Nugent that prevented that doctor from getting his way.”

“Heyes has epilepsy?” Harry asked.

“What's that?” Isabelle chimed in.

“Oh brother!” Jed groaned. “But he's okay now, right? The sheriff released him, and he's on his way?”

“Yes,” Steven assured him. “Between the two of us, David and I buried his protests in paperwork. The man had no clue, and had certainly not done his research. And, as David has already stated, Sheriff Nugent was very supportive of our cause. He witnessed the seizure, and yet, he was still willing to support the notion that Hannibal was not insane. They had a chance to get to know one another while Hannibal was a guest of his jail.”

“Well, wasn't that convenient,” Jed groused. “If the sheriff hadn't detained him in the first place...”

“That wasn't his fault, Jed,” Steven pointed out. “The state of Wyoming had not gotten the news of the pardon to the smaller towns yet. He was simply acting on the information he had. When you look at it from that perspective, Sheriff Nugent was more than accommodating.”

“He's right,” Kenny agreed. “If both the doctor and the sheriff had signed the papers to have Heyes committed, then we would have had a fight on our hands to get him out. It could have taken years, and in the mean time, Heyes would have been in an asylum. Prison would have seemed like a piece of cake compared to one of those places.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jed commented. “We might have lost him altogether, if he'd ended up in there.”

“So, you should be thanking Sheriff Nugent, Jed,” Steven pointed out. “He really did save the day.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jed agreed. “I just still have a hard time thinkin' of a lawman bein' on our side.”

“Hey!” Joe spoke up. “I take exception to that!”

Jed grinned. “Yeah, yeah,” he agreed. “Present company exempted.”

“And Sheriff Jacobs,” Joe pointed out.

“Yeah, okay. And Sheriff Jacobs.”

“Not to mention your friend, Sheriff Trevors,” Joe continued. “Isn't he still in town, being all supportive of the crisis, and helping out wherever he can, and being really supportive of you and Heyes with your amnesty...”

“Yeah!” Jed griped. “Okay.”

“When have I ever let you boys down?” Harry demanded to know. “Why, I've been there for both of you, through thick and thin. If Heyes were here, I'm sure he'd agree with me. Where would he be, if I hadn't a stood up for him at that hearing? I've put my life and my reputation on the line more than once for you boys...”

“Yeah, Harry! Alright!”

“And what about me?” Kenny asked. “Haven't I been supportive of you two...?”

Jed sighed in defeat. “Yeah, alright. How about if I buy a round of after dinner drinks? Will that appease my blunder?”

“That would be a good start,” Kenny agreed.

“I'll accept that,” Joe seconded. “I'll even have two, out of respect for Sheriff Jacobs, who isn't here tonight, and had sent me to represent him.”

“If you're his representative, then you only get one drink,” Steven pointed out. “You can't be here as yourself, and as a representative of someone else, at the same time.”

“Sure I can,” Joe countered. “I would have been here on my own anyway, so when Sheriff Jacobs asked me to come to get the information for him, I figured that was separate from my wanting to know for personal reasons. Therefore I'm here as myself, and as a representative of the law in this town.”

“Can't argue with that,” Jed commented. “Joe gets two drinks.” 

“Sounds fair,” David agreed.

“So what's still going on with Heyes?” Jed brought the subject back to the main point. “You guys seemed kind'a dubious about things bein' cleared up down there.”

“Unfortunately, though Dr. Shandal is behind the times,” David explained. “he still has friends who agree with him.”

“He lost his bid in Yuma,” Steven continued. “But it was hardly in a court of law. If he chooses to take this to the next level, we could be in for a real fight.”

“Ohhh...” Jed groaned.

“Oh no,” Bridget stated. “You mean he might have to go to trial all over again?”

“That isn't fair!” Beth complained. “He's free; the governor granted him a full pardon!”

“I'm glad I had enough sense to not marry an ex-convict,” Isabelle sniped. “Poor Miranda is going to have to deal with one crisis after another, with that man. I'm so happy that my Harry has always been on the right side of the law.”

Jed couldn't help the snort that escaped his nasal passages. 

“Harry!?” he exclaimed. “Always on the right side of the law? Gee Harry, haven't ya' told your wife to be about the dark side of your business?”

“Oh now, Kid,” Harry squirmed. “No need to go into that. It's all water under the bridge now.” He smiled and gave his fiance a little pat on her thigh. “One little slip up, and some people will never let you forget.”

“One little slip up?” Isabelle asked, suddenly feeling left out of the loop. “What happened?”

“It's nothing, Peaches,” Harry insisted. “Just the boys pulling a prank.” And he sent Jed a subtle, but pleading look to drop the topic.

Jed grinned, but decided it would be best to not spill the apple cart this close to the wedding. Plenty of time after the wedding night, for Harry to come clean.

“Yeah, Harry's right,” Jed concurred. “It was just some fun, Isabelle. Nothin' fer you ta' worry about.”

“Of course,” Isabelle stated, all smug again. “My Harry would never do anything underhanded.”

“Ah, back to Hannibal's situation,” Steven reiterated. “It's not likely that Dr. Shandal is going to take things further. For one thing, it would cost him a lot of money. I know what a lawyer would charge to take on a case like that, and from what I saw of Dr. Shandal, he doesn't have the means.”

“And besides,” David added. “With family and friends here, who can vouch for him, I doubt a judge would try to have him committed. Without legal backing, Shandal would need a close family relative to support his actions, and I think we all know that none of Hannibal's family would back that move.”

“You got that right,” Jed concurred. 

“Yes,” David continued. “And I'm family as well, through marriage, and I certainly wouldn't support it. So, I think he's safe enough.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jed accepted that, and relaxed his concerns. 

“Now, about my wedding!” Isabelle took the opportunity to change the subject. “You are all coming aren't you? The ceremony is at 11:00 at the church, or outside the church. Whatever. As long as it happens. Me and Gladys and Eugenie are going to be up half the night getting the dress ready...Oh dear!” her hands came up to her mouth and she stared at her fiancee as though he were the sceptre himself. “I shouldn't have said that,” she wailed. “You're not suppose to know anything about the dress!”

Harry looked perplexed. “What about it?” he asked. “Weren't you going to wear the Jordan's weddin' dress?”

Isabelle gasped, truly horror stricken now. “You weren't suppose to know that! Oh no! It's all ruined now!”

“Oh Isabelle,” Bridget snarked, getting tired of this woman's tantrums. “It's not all ruined. The dress will still be unique for your wedding.”

Harry still looked out of his depth. “What's the matter, Peaches?” he asked her. “How could I not know about you using the Jordan's dress? Your own dress got burned to bits. You had to get a dress from somewhere. I am a detective you know. It wasn't hard to figure out.”

“Yeah, especially since most of the town knew that Sam was bringing the dress in from the ranch,” Jed pointed out. “It's hardly a secret.”

“That settles it!” Isabelle stated. “I can't wear that dress now!”

“What!?” both Beth and Bridget were up in arms.

“After all the work we've done on it, to make it fit you?” Bridget accused. “You're not backing out on it now!”

“We've changed everything on it to suit you, Isabelle,” Beth pointed out. “And everyone went to a lot of trouble to make sure you had this dress for your wedding. Don't you dare say now that you're not going to wear it!”

Pansy sat quietly beside her boyfriend, her previous hurt feelings of being left out of the wedding preparations, suddenly dissipating. She never had been all that fond of Isabelle anyway. She was mean.

As for Isabelle, she was back-stepping now that she realized that her tantrum wasn't going to get her anywhere. The knowledge that there really wasn't any alternative available also helped for her to see reason.

“Oh yes,” she stated. “If it's so important to you, that I wear your mother's dress at my wedding, well, I certainly wouldn't want to disappoint you. Of course I'll wear it. My mother's would have been nicer, but we've all had to make sacrifices this past week, so of course, it's the least I can do.”

The Jordan sisters weren't sure if they should be angry or relieved at Isabelle's statement, but at least, things did seem to be settled.

“I'm glad that's settled,” Jed mumbled. 

“Good!” Isabelle stated. “Now, while you gentlemen have your round of after dinner drinks, I'm going to head back to Gladys' place for our own little party. Oh, and you ladies are certainly welcome to join me.”

“I don't know,” Beth said. “I should get home to T.J.”

“And I haven't seen my husband in days,” Bridget put in. “I was hoping...”

“Oh don't be so silly!” Isabelle countered. “Your husband is going to be drinking with his friends, either here, or over at the saloon, for the next couple of hours. I know what men are like on the eve of a wedding. They have to show Harry a good time. And as for your baby, Beth, he's probably sound asleep in his grandma's arms. So come on; let's have a ladies evening in. It'll be fun!”

Beth and Bridget exchanged glances. Neither were eager to go, but both wanted to check up on the status of the dress. Isabelle noted their hesitation, and came at them again.

“You join us as well, Pansy,” she forced herself to offer, then sent a wicked smile in Joe's direction. “Who knows, maybe you're going to be the next one planning a wedding.”

Pansy blushed, and sent a sidelong glance towards her beau. They'd never discussed getting married, and with Joe talking about going back East for school, it seemed an unlikely event. Still, she did have her hopes.

“Mrs. Reece, and Tricia,” Isabelle expanded her invitations. “You're welcome to come along as well. The more the merrier.”

“Thank you,” Sarah responded, “but this is for you young ladies. I'm about done in, and I'm planning a nice quiet evening, up in our room.”

“I won't be going to any saloon tonight,” Kenny predicted. “As much as I would like to be recovered from our adventures, my body is not accommodating me on that. A couple of drinks here, and I'll be calling it a night.”

“Yes,” Tricia seconded. “I need to get back home. We still have a patient in the house. But you ladies go. Have some fun.”

“We won't be out too late,” Steven said. “I'm tired, and I'm sure David is as well.”

“Oh yes,” David agreed. “And let's face it, we have a busy day tomorrow. I hear that there's going to be a wedding in town!”

Everyone at the table broke up laughing, and the mood shifted to a more festive spirit.

“Alright,” Beth agreed, once the laughter had settled. “It'll be fun.”

“Yes,” Bridget supported her. “You too, Pansy. Let's make it a fun night. We don't have to stay late.”

“Yes, alright,” Pansy accepted. “I would like that.”

“There, it's settled,” Jed announced, with some relief. “We won't keep Harry out too late.”

Chairs scrapped across the floor, as the ladies stood up to depart, and the gentlemen stood up to say their good-nights to them. There was a minor exodus, filled with excited laughing, and high speed chatter, and the men all sighed with relief as they re-seated themselves around the table.

“Wow, Harry,” Kenny commented. “You're going to have fun with that one.”

“Yes indeed,” Harry agreed. “Looking forward to it! Yes indeed!”

 

To Be Continued.


	12. Another Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are Harry and Isabelle finally going to tie the knot? The small town of Brookswood is a flurry of activity, to ensure that it does happen.

He really wasn't sure about all this. Everything had happened so quickly. Well, no, maybe not that quickly. There had certainly been setbacks, plenty of time to re-think it all, plenty of time to change his mind. But it seemed as though once that train got rolling, there was no stopping it. His one minor attempt to derail the steam engine had resulted in a rather unfortunate situation.

Now, as he sat in his hotel room and gazed out at the early morning activity down in the town square, he felt a very familiar knot bunch up in his gut. He had felt this knot many, many times before, and had always covered it up with layers of bravado and arrogant speech. But he didn't think he was up to playing that game this time. Too many people were counting on him. Too many events were already in full swing. And far be it for a Bannerman man to back out on his word.

Harry wasn't used to all this support, especially from people he hardly knew. Many of them were treating him like a hero! This was making him feel even more uncomfortable. He was accustomed to being ridiculed, laughed at, and teased. He was constantly being told he was a bumbling fool, to the point where it was now the most natural response to him. He could deal with that. Just puff up your chest and swagger around like you actually do know what you're doing. It threw people off, made them give you another chance, made them doubt what their own common sense was telling them—if you were lucky.

It hadn't fooled Heyes and the Kid though. Even before that Brimstone escapade was over and done with, those two boys had seen through his clever disguise. They'd seen through it long before he himself had realized his vital mistake. Yes, they'd had him alright. Saw him for a fool and then played him for one. He'd kicked himself over that blunder, more than once. If only he'd seen it! What a feather in his cap that would have been, to actually bring in Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry—and bring them in alive! Yes, he could have lived on those laurels for the rest of his career.

Then he'd get over his self-condemnation and think about what had come of those events. Who would have thought that a Bannerman man, and a pair of notorious outlaws could actually team up and be friends? It simply did not add up, and yet, there it was. Oh, it had started out rocky, that’s for sure. Those boys had been slow to trust, and Harry probably hadn't helped it much by threatening to turn them in, by stealing from them, and leaving them to die of thirst in the desert. But all that was water under the bridge now; they'd forgiven him for that, surely. Of course they had! He'd proven his worth when he had gotten them out from under that posse. He'd played the game, and hadn't turned them in when he had the perfect chance to do so. And there was the matter of his invaluable help in tracking down Harris. There was a man who got what he deserved, and Harry had stared danger in the face and shown his worth. Yep. They knew now what a good, solid friend he could be.

Harry sighed. It was early morning still, yet many people, mainly women, were scurrying around the town square, putting up ribbons and organizing displays of flowers, even though many of the delicate plants were slightly singed and parched looking. Tables around the outside of the square were being set up and baskets of linen were arriving to be laid out to add some class and dignity to the impromptu chapel. Dishes came out next, to be quickly dispersed and organized into the appropriate display. Small woven baskets that would ultimately hold various types of home baked goods were strategically placed upon the tables, while vases of more flowers were set out to add color.

Everyone hoped the day would stay as warm and still as the morning was promising. If rain or even a mild breeze came up, all of their attempts to beautify the area could be in vain. But no one spoke of it, and the towns women folk were doing their utmost to make this wedding a special day for everyone. 

The town needed this. It had been a hell of a week, and everyone felt the need to find something to rejoice in. Not only was it great news to most of the eligible men in the vicinity that Isabelle was finally getting married, but it was a chance for everyone to let off some steam. To let their worries go, and embrace something fun and positive, even if just for a day.

So many had been injured. Too many had died. The damages to homes, property and businesses hadn't even been calculated yet. But for now, for today, all but the worst of the worries were set aside and postponed. The town was going to celebrate, and Harry's cold feet weren't going to stand in its way.

He turned from the window and stared at his surroundings. These were his last fleeting moments as a bachelor, and he bit his lower lip, feeling that consternation again. Was he doing the right thing? He was so notorious for making the wrong choices, that now, he doubted himself. What if she turned into a nagging anchor around his neck? He’d seen that happen before—yessir! All love and happiness at first, followed by misery, and taking on cases further and further afield just to be able to avoid the little woman at home. Is that what he was setting himself up for?

Then his thoughts turned to his Peaches, and he smiled. Even though no one was there to see him, his shoulders drew back, and his chest puffed up in pride. She was pretty, in a late bloom sort of way. And he loved the way her eyes lite up whenever she gazed upon him. It made his heart skip with pleasure. It’d been a long time since a pretty woman had looked at him that way. Dang, even the not so pretty ones tended to turn their noses up at him. He convinced himself that it didn’t bother him, he had his work, and that was all that mattered. But when Isabelle looked at him with that look, wow, he realized how much he needed to have someone need him.

This was going to be a good day. Everything was coming together. The fire was out, so the risk of imminent danger was gone. His friends, or at least the ones who mattered, had all stayed in town to attend the nuptials. He did feel some regret that Heyes wouldn’t be here for the big day, and he hesitated on that note. Now that the fire had already postponed the big day, Heyes would be back soon, and maybe they should wait…he cringed, and instantly vetoed that thought. The memory of the episode that had followed his last suggestion that they wait, made him squirm with discomfort. He couldn’t put his Peaches through that again. He knew Heyes would be disappointed, but sometimes a man has to make a choice.

Xxx

Jed lie in bed, warm and comfortable, with no desire to get up and start the day. His wife and son were nestled in close to him, and he held them gently in his arms, his and Beth’s legs lovingly intertwined beneath the covers.

Beth had arisen an hour previously to feed Thaddeus, but still feeling the desire for her husband’s warmth, she had returned to the cocoon of their bed. T.J. had suckled on, as she had settled in once again, beside Jed, and he had sleepily rolled over, to cuddle them both in. Now T.J. had finished his breakfast and was back to sleep again, so Jed and Beth remained gently embraced with the infant slumbering between them, secure in his parents’ love.

Sounds of breakfast preparations began to filter into their room, but none of the drowsy bed occupants opened their eyes or stirred to arise. The most to be gotten from them, was a resigned sigh from Jed.

“I don’t want to get up,” he whispered, as he held his wife and son close.

Beth smiled, but still refused to open her eyes. 

“I know,” she agreed. “It is going to be a busy day though. We should get on with it.”

Jed groaned. 

Nobody moved.

“What time is the wedding?” Beth finally asked.

“11:00.”

“We should get up.”

Groan.

Awakened by his parents’ soft murmurings, Thaddeus yawned and stretched, his little hands making tiny fists as his face screwed into a grimace. A loud, mushy fart invaded the sanctity of the bed, and both parents gagged and turned away from the squirming baby.

“Oh god!” Jed complained as he waved a hand in front of his nose. “Please tell me he has his nappy on.”

“Yes, he does,” Beth assured him, but still pushed herself up and prepared to vacate the bed. “Whoosh! Oh my goodness. Somebody’s going to need changing, as in right now!”

“Oh man!” Jed continued to complain as he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. “I thought Heyes was cruel with his wake up calls, but I don’t think even he could top that.”

Beth giggled as she scooped up her now complaining son.

“Are you saying that Miranda is getting more than she bargained for?” she asked, innocently.

Jed snorted but made no comment. He reached over to the side chair, and grabbing his items of clothing, quickly got himself dressed. He turned around just in time to witness Beth unpinning the nappy and exposing the dirty deed, and the room expanded with the obnoxious odour. She instantly dropped another small towel over her son’s privates, just as a stream of urine attempted to arch its way towards the ceiling. 

“Ahh, you can handle this, right?” he asked, with nose plugged, as he inched his way towards the bedroom door.

Beth smiled. “Yes. I’m fine. I’ll see you out there in a few minutes.”

“Good,” Jed mumbled as he reached the door. “You’re a marvel, Darlin’. Runnin’ a gang ‘a outlaws was nothin’ compared to a mother’s job.”

And then he was gone. Beth smiled and shook her head, as she tended to her son’s needs.

Xxx

Merle sighed quietly as she poured herself a cup of tea. The first wave of breakfast consumers had gobbled down their oatmeal and then headed out on their various missions for the morning. It was always a relief to get the children fed and out from under foot, and this morning was no exception. The pot of oatmeal was quietly simmering, and the coffee pot was hot for when Jed finally decided to arise from repast. Merle was surprised that the scraping of chairs, along with all the other chattering and scuffling that accompanied children having breakfast, hadn’t already aroused the slumbering couple.

Merle didn’t question it for long though. She appreciated a quiet lull before the next wave and was going to take full advantage of it. With tea cup in hand, she turned to have a seat at the table when a familiar softness of fur caressed itself against her calf. She smiled, and reaching down, gave the small cat a scratch on the top of her head.

 

“There you are,” Merle greeted the resident feline. “Wanting your breakfast as well, are you?”

 

“Merr.”

 

“At least you’re smart enough to wait until the children are all done.”

 

“Ack!”

Merle placed her tea cup onto the table, and turning back to the counter, she added a touch of cream to the small bowl of cooled oats, mixed it up good and set it down on the floor, out of harm’s way.

 

“There you go, missy, all ready for you.”

 

Merle gave the cat a solid stroke from the top of her head, all the way along her spine and ending with a slight tug at the end of her tail. Mouse arched and dipped her spine along with the flow of the hand, and her purring increased and continued, as she tucked into her share of breakfast. Merle sat down and sipped her tea as she absently watched the cat tend to its fare.

Odd that in just a few days, her attitude concerning a cat in the house and gone from definitely never, to ‘well, it’s their house’, then all the way to total acceptance and even appreciation of the company. Mouse was her mother’s kitten, and she knew instinctively how to convince even the most hardened of criminals to like her, so one old woman, set in her ways, was hardly going to cause her any concern.

Merle thought about that for awhile. If she was set in her ways, she’d certainly relaxed her attitudes since moving in with her son. That had been a frightening step for a mother to make, and the first few months had had their share of challenges. Was it a wise choice? Would her son’s new wife accept her, or would she view her as a threat? Many wives are fiercely protective of their husbands’ affections, and mothers-in-law are often on the top of that list of possible threats.

On top of that, Merle was stubbornly independent. She hadn’t wanted to leave her little house in Wyoming. It was her home, the place where she had begun her married life, where her son had been born, and where she had struggled to survive after her husband’s untimely death. And she had succeeded too. It was her triumph. But she knew in her heart, that she was getting older, and even though she had caring and supportive neighbours, she knew that living alone was not wise at her stage of life.

Then her son had done well for himself. The money he had received as part of the reward for helping to apprehend those two outlaws, had given him enough to buy his own home. It wasn’t a huge place, and nor did it have lots of land, but it was a start for the newlyweds, and it had enough room for a growing family, and a mother-in-law.

Maribelle had had her own reservations about her new husband’s mother coming to live with them. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but she had heard enough horror stories from friends and acquaintances, about the mother-in-law moving in and taking over control of the household. Maribelle had finally gotten out of her parent’s house, and now had a home of her own to manage and take pride in. The last thing she wanted was another ‘mother’ moving in and treating her like the daughter who didn’t know anything.

But then Maribelle had become in the family way, and she was having problems. Sam was at his wits end; he had money in the bank, but he still needed to work in order to deep their income flowing. He knew what it was like to go from affluent to poor, over night, and he was bound and determined to make sure that didn’t happen to his new family. But he feared for Maribelle’s safety while he was away, and he struggled with the idea of taking time off work in order to stay with her. The bottom line on this line of thought, though, was that he had no idea what to do to help her; she needed another woman in the house. He sent a repeated appeal to his mother to please come and live with them. It wasn’t just for her own well-being now, but for the welfare of Sam’s new family. It would be an ideal situation for all concerned.

Merle still hesitated. She didn’t want to sell the house that had been her home for so many years. He husband was buried in the town’s cemetery, and all the memories of her adult life were tied up in this one place. On top of that, one of the two outlaws whom Sam had had a hand in capturing, had actually been given an amnesty and was living right there in Sam’s back yard! She’d never had much sympathy for outlaws, but after her husband had been killed, lack of sympathy had developed into all out vehemence. How her son managed to live in that man’s shadow was difficult enough to comprehend, but for him to expect her to do the same was completely out of the question.

But Sam had been adamant. They needed her there. Maribelle was having a very difficult time and might even lose the baby. Sam was scared—oh, he didn’t actually come out and say that, but a mother can tell. Was one lowly outlaw going to keep her from coming to her son’s aide at a time like this? By God, he was not!

Once her dander was up, it didn’t take her long to get organized. Her house sold quickly, as the town was prospering and real estate was in demand. She packed her bags and made arrangements for her furniture to be shipped along with her, because of course, her son wouldn’t have anything worthwhile, then bought a train ticket and headed for Colorado.

Tragically, she hadn’t been able to help Maribelle save her babies, but at least she was there to help the young couple through the tragedies. Then they had done a surprising thing, and decided to adopt. Now things couldn’t be going better. Far from there being spiteful competition, Merle and Maribelle had developed a true mother/daughter relationship, and their friendship had grown from there. Trust her son to marry a young lady who would fit so casually into their family values and lifestyle. Her son’s new family was the best thing that could have happened for an aging lady, living alone.

Now, here she was, sitting in the home of one of those outlaws her son had helped to apprehend, and was awaiting the eminent awakening of the other, whom she had come to town already prepared to despise. Funny, the path life takes you on, even when you think nothing new could happen to surprise you. It had taken her a while to accept those two scoundrels as true citizens of the town. Indeed, she wondered what had happened to her son, when he indicated a desire to not only befriend the pair, but to help the one get the other out of prison! Her world had gone topsy-turvy.

Gradually though, she had come to accept Jed Curry as a young man who was truly repentant. He was trying so hard to build a life for himself, that Merle found it impossible to continue to dislike him. Then, when the other one, Hannibal Heyes, had finally been released and returned to the township, her heart, like so many others in the town, had gone out to him. The young man himself hadn’t realized it, of course, but many in Brookswood felt sympathy towards him, once they saw the state of his degraded health and physical condition. 

Then, there was all that hubbub concerning the vendetta, and poor young Beth Jordan had lost her first child. So tragic. But everyone had rallied around the young woman, and no one more than her husband, Jed Curry, and his partner, Hannibal Heyes. They worked hard to find the culprit who was responsible for the mishaps that had befallen the town, and the town took notice. They were both working hard to fit in and become a part of the community, and Merle couldn’t help but think that they had accomplished that. She even tended to forget that they had once been outlaws.

Her reminiscing was suddenly interrupted when the bedroom door opened, and Jed Curry himself made a hasty entrance into the kitchen. He was looking a little green around the gills.

“Jed,” she greeted him with a smile. “You look like you’ve just walked into an outhouse that’s over-due for a digging out.”

Jed rolled his eyes.

“I think I’ll head out to the privy for a breath of fresh air,” he commented. “How does a baby manage to send out such a…” He was at a loss for words.

“They are marvelous little creatures, aren’t they?” Merle responded with a smile. “Oatmeal has been ready for ages. The children are already done, and out getting their chores taken care of, so I thought the smell of coffee would get you two moving, if nothing else.”

“It was a smell alright,” Jed grumbled as he scratched his scalp. “but it sure weren’t coffee.”

Merle smiled, knowingly. “Well, at least it got you moving. Were you planning on sleeping the whole day away?”

“Yeah, actually,” Jed confessed. “Can’t think’a anything better to do.”

“Oh, come on now,” Merle chastised him. “This is a big day for your friend. Surely your own wedding day isn’t so far past, that you don’t remember how special it was.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jed agreed. He yawned as he poured himself a cup of coffee and set about preparing another cup of the magical elixir for his wife. “I’m sure that once I’m awake, I’ll get into the swing of things.”

“I’m sure you will,” Merle agreed. “Now, would you like some breakfast?”

“I’ll wait for Beth,” Jed told her. “Then we’ll get it ourselves. You just sit and relax while you can. Like you say; it’s gonna be a busy day.”

“Yes!”

“Awful quiet now though,” Jed observed after his initial sip of coffee. “Where is everyone?”

“The whole household is way ahead of you folks this morning,” Merle chided gently. “Maribelle has gone over to the Gibson’s place to give Trich a hand, and Carol went with her. The boys are out tending to the horses and I’m sure, getting up to no end of mischief while they’re doing it. And Sally is in the family room, reading a book.”

“Hmm,” Jed nodded over another sip. “That girl do like ta’ read.”

“Yes. I wonder where she gets that from.”

“Ha!”

The bedroom door opened, and the other half of the Curry family joined the couple in the kitchen. Thaddeus was sitting on his mother’s hip, looking all cleaned up and pleased with himself.

“Hey, Darlin’,” Jed greeted her. “Coffee?”

“I’m going to make a run to the privy first,” Beth announced. “Then some coffee and oatmeal would be wonderful.”

“Good idea,” Jed agreed. “I’ll be next.”

“Here, you entertain your son for a few minutes,” she suggested as she handed the infant over. “I’ll be right back.” She headed down the hall, towards the back door and took note to herself of how quiet the household was. “Where is everybody?” they heard her mumble, as she disappeared from the room.

Jed and Merle exchanged a smile while Thaddeus gurgled happily and began to play with his papa’s nose.

Xxx

“Oh, my!” Bridget exclaimed as soon as she had crossed the threshold into Gladys’ bedroom. “What have you done!”

“What do you mean?” Isabelle demanded, feeling insulted. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’ve ruined it!” Bridget wailed. “Oh no, Mama’s going to have a fit.”

“Ruined it?” Gladys challenged her. “We improved it. It’s one of a kind.”

Bridget’s eyes nearly watered up in tears as she viewed the fruit tree that now graced the body of the bride-to-be. What had once been an elegant, pearl and lace wedding gown, was now demoted to peach colored dollar size buttons, an abundance of lace and over-sized ribbons and bows that managed to turn a beloved family heirloom into an explosion of garish fruit fluff.

Isabelle frowned in confusion. Her dress was the most beautiful thing she had even adorned. Why was Bridget so upset? Besides, everything they had stitched onto it, could be just as easily removed after the ceremony. Really! Bridget was just being a prima donna. She was jealous, that was all. Jealous that someone else had been able to turn the old out-of-date gown into something chic and modern, and set upon a bride who could wear it with panache. 

The Jordan girls always had been such children. Hadn’t she told Jed just that? But did he listen to her? No! He’d gone ahead and married that silly Beth anyways. Well it serves him right, now. Thank goodness! In hindsight, she realized how close she had come to making a huge mistake in flirting with either one of those unscrupulous men. It’s not surprising that all they could get was a girl who was too young to know any better, and an old widow who realized she’d better take whatever was offered, or risk remaining alone forever.

But Isabelle had done very well for herself, indeed. A detective! She still couldn’t quite believe her good fortune. Harry was such a gentleman, and so gracious! He treated her with respect. Hadn’t he proved his love when he stood up to her father like that? Most of the men who had come courting her had been afraid of her father. He sent most of them packing, and then blamed her for it! But not Harry. No sir. He’d stood up to her papa like a husband should, and showed the whole town what a brave man he was. Not that he had to prove anything there, what with all he’d done to help with the fire, and then rescue Mr. Jordan, to boot. 

Oh yes, she was going to have herself a fine husband, and now here was this silly young woman having a temper tantrum over a dress! And on her wedding day! The Jordans were bound and determined to ruin this special day for her. She thought it was a compliment, asking Mr. Jordan to give her away, but apparently he didn’t seem to think so. Bridget said he was too injured to accept the honor, but Isabelle had her suspicions. All he had to do was stand up beside her during the ceremony. Just how hard could that be?

Her expression darkened, and she almost stamped her foot with irritation.

“Don’t frown!” Eugene scolded her. “You’ll ruin the make-up, and we had a hard enough time covering up that bruise.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Isabelle agreed as she smoothed out her features. “Sorry, I forgot. I certainly want to look my best for today.”

“You do,” Eugene seconded. “Don’t even smile.”

Isabelle sighed dramatically. 

“I’m expected to smile on my wedding day!” she insisted. “How can I get married, and not be smiling about it?”

“Well…just don’t smile until after the ceremony,” Gladys told her. “It won’t matter after that.”

“How much time before it begins?” Isabelle asked.

“We have an hour yet,” Eugene informed her. “We’re fine.”

“Fine!?” Isabelle wailed. “I don’t have my bouquet, and I don’t have anyone to give me away! How is that fine?”

“You know that Mrs. Gilmore has put together a bouquet for you,” Gladys reminded her. “I’ll pick it up at the mercantile store on our way to the town square.”

“But I haven’t even seen it yet!” Isabelle complained. “What does she know about putting together a wedding bouquet? All she and her husband do is run the store. Hardly what I would call being organized, or understanding anything about presentation.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Gladys soothed her. “She even made up some boutonnieres for the men.”

Isabelle snorted. “As long as Jed remembers to pick them up.”

“He won’t forget,” Bridget assured her, though she was tempted to go and tell Jed not to bother. “If you like, I can go collect the bouquets now. Then you can put your fears to rest.”

“Oh, would you!?” Isabelle brightened up. “That would be so sweet of you.”

“Yes, I’ll go and get them,” Bridget confirmed, feeling relieved at having an excuse to leave. “I won’t be but a moment.”

“And if you wouldn’t mind, finding someone suitable to give me away, as well!” Isabelle called after her, just as the bedroom door closed. “You’re such a dear!

Xxx

Bridget rolled her eyes as she headed out the front door of the house. Interesting how the men of this household were staying scarce during the wedding preparations. Find someone to give her away! What was she, the wedding planner? On the up side, pretty much the whole town would probably like to give Isabelle away, the trick was to find someone who would do it officially. Then she spotted Sheriff Jacobs.

“Sheriff!” she called out to him, stopping him on his way back to his office. “Sheriff Jacobs, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Jacobs smiled and tipped his hat.

“What can I do for you, Miss Jordan? Or should I say Mrs. Granger. Sorry,” he smiled deprecatingly. “I always have a hard time adjusting to the young people in this town, growing up and moving on. Kind’a reminds me of how old I am.”

“You could go back to calling me Bridget,” she suggested, with a hint of a smile. “I admit to feeling disappointed when you stopped doing that.”

“It’s not polite to refer to a young lady by her given name,” Jacobs pointed out to her. “When you’re a young’un, that’s one thing, but not once you come of age.”

“But you refer to Isabelle by her given name,” Bridget reminded him. “What’s the difference?”

“Hmm,” Jacobs scratched his chin in thought. “I suppose you got me there. It’s probably because I never got to thinking of Isabelle as grown up. Yet, here she is about to become a Mrs.”

“Oddly enough, I wanted to talk with you about something right along those lines,” Bridget warmed up to her topic.

“Ah, yes,” Jacobs agreed. “Another wedding. Nice to see the town getting behind it, the way they are. Should be one hell of a…I mean, one real nice party.”

“Yes, I’m sure it will be,” Bridget agreed. “However, we seem to be short one of the key players in the wedding ceremony, and I was wondering, since you know a little of Isabelle’s history, and since you have always tried to be supportive of her, in her dire circumstances, that perhaps… well, I mean, since my father is laid up and isn’t likely to make it to the wedding, let alone…well, I was hoping…”

Jacobs sighed and pushed his hat back on his head. He gave the young lady before him a look that suggested that she get to the point.

Bridget braced herself to be laughed at, then spit it out. “Would you be willing to give Isabelle away during the ceremony today?”

Much to her surprise, Jacobs’ expression turned to surprise and then a smile spread across his features.

“Well now, I’d be honored,” he said. “Goodness knows that child has been through a hell of a life, living with ole’ man Baird. I’m not sure what kind of a husband Briscoe is gonna make, but it’s gotta be a sight better than what she’s got now. Briscoe don’t strike me as a violent man.”

“No!” Bridget was quick to agree, feeling relieved that her suggestion was actually being accepted. “I have known Mr. Briscoe for some time now, not to mention both Hannibal and Jed have known him for years. They may not always see eye to eye, but neither have ever accused Mr. Briscoe of being violent. At least, they haven’t mentioned any such thing to me. I’m sure he will treat her far better than her father has done.”

“I hope you’re right.” He smiled and puffed up his chest. “It’s a good thing I’ve already got on my goin’ to church duds, for the wedding, I mean. I don’t get much chance to go to church. But I suppose they’ll do alright for giving away the bride. Where is she, anyway?”

“She’s over at Gladys’ house,” Bridget informed him. “I’m on my way to pick up the bouquets, so I can bring along your boutonniere as well.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go barging in on those ladies just yet,” Jacobs surmised. “I have a few things to check on, and then I’ll meet all you ‘young ladies’ in the front hallway. How’s that?”

“That should be just about right,” Bridget agreed. “But, please—don’t be late!”

Jacobs laughed out loud. “I promise.”

“And Sheriff,” Bridget continued. “we’ve known each other for years, so please, call me Bridget.”

The sheriff politely tipped his hat. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Xxx

“C’mon, Harry,” Jed pushed, as his friend still lingered in front of the mirror. “Ya don’t wanna be makin’ your bride wait for ya’ at the alter.”

Harry was frowning at his reflection, and wasn’t in any hurry to respond to Jed’s nagging.

“I donno, Kid,” he grumbled. “I still think I should’a got the doctor’s wife to cover up these bruises. I look like a ruffian.”

“Ya look fine, Harry,” Jed insisted. “We all got our share of bruises. You’ll fit right in. Besides, I think Isabelle likes it.”

Harry smiled, instantly brightening. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Jed concurred. “C’mon, will ya? We still gotta pick up the boutonnieres.”

A knocking on the door caught Jed’s attention, and he turned to open it. It didn’t seem to matter how hard Wheat and Kyle tried to clean themselves up, they still came across as looking like transients, wearing suits freshly pulled out of saddlebags. The addition of bruises, cuts, and bandaging, completed the established image of a pair of bedraggled miscreants. Young Mr. Ames, who was doing his best to disappear into the background, was showing all indications of following in his heroes’ footsteps.

“Hey ya’, Kid,” Wheat greeted the doorman. “Ah, we done run into Mrs. Granger, out there in the street, and she asked us ta’ bring these up to ya’.” He presented two small boxes, which apparently, contained the aforementioned boutonnieres intended for the groom and his best man. “Don’t see why a man’s gotta wear a flower, just ‘couse he’s getting married, though.”

“Yeah,” Kyle grinned. “Seems kinda womanly ta me. Sur glad I didn’t have ta carry ‘em.”

“Only ‘cause your hands are still bandaged up,” Wheat snarked at him. “You’d probably end up crushin’ ‘em.” A look of sudden awareness took over his face, and he looked over his shoulder at Ames. “Dammit! I shoulda given ‘em to you to carry. What the hell was I thinkin’?”

Panic erupted in Ames’ eyes as the older man started to turn, with all appearances of handing the offensive duty over to the junior member. Jed quickly caught his arm, and brought his attention back to the forefront.

“Wheat, just give them to me!” he told him. “Then you boys get on down to the square. What’s it lookin like down there, anyway?”

“Crowded,” Wheat told him.

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed. “Looks like everybody and their dog has come fer this shindig. There oughta be one hell of a party later on!”

Harry’s face appeared over the Kid’s shoulder, his good eye narrowed to a suspicious slit.

“Everybody?” he asked. “We didn’t invite everybody! How are we gonna…”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry,” Jed told him. “Like we were sayin; the town’s ready for a party. I really don’t think you have much say in it anymore.”

“Well that’s a fine howdy-do!” Harry complained. “My own weddin’, and I ain’t got no say?”

“Just be thankful, people are showin’ up,” Jed reminded him. “C’mon, Harry. Go with the flow, will ya’? I have a feelin’ everything’s gonna work out fine.”

“Well yeah, but…”

“See you boys down there,” Jed told his men, and promptly closed the door on them. “C’mon, Harry. Let’s get these things pinned on, so we can get down there, or Isabelle is gonna be havin’ a hissy fit.”

“I still think I need the doctor’s wife to…ouch!”

“Sorry. Just stand still, will ya’?”

Xxx

“Oh, thank goodness, you’re back!” Isabelle snarked, as Bridget entered the bedroom, carrying the bouquets and one more boutonniere. “I was beginning to think that I would have to get married without the final touches.”

“You’re fine, Isabelle,” Bridget assured her, putting the bride’s rudeness down to nerves. “Harry and Jed aren’t down yet, so you can relax for a moment.”

“He’s not down there yet?” she queried, alarm showing in her dark eyes. “What if he’s run off? What if he’s decided that he doesn’t want to get married after all?”

“I doubt that Jed would let him do that,” Bridget commented, but realized that this probably wasn’t the assurance that Isabelle had been fishing for. “Besides, I’m sure he wants to marry you. He would have backed out ages ago, if he was going to.”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Isabelle agreed. “Gladys, be a dear, and go wait at the square. Let me know as soon as Harry comes down.”

“But I’m your matron of honor!” Gladys complained. “Why can’t Bridget do that.”

“Because Bridget has to hold the bouquets until we’re ready to take them!” Isabelle told her. “I’m not having my flowers crushed! Now go, go…we won’t leave until you come back anyway!”

Gladys huffed in indignation, but yanked open the door anyway. She was just about to make a dramatic exit, when she was brought up short by the arrival of her husband.

“Oh.” She smiled sweetly. “Is something wrong, dear?”

“I hope not,” the long-suffering man stated. “Sheriff Jacobs is in the front hall. He says, to see Isabelle.”

Isabelle’s hand went to her bosom in alarm. “Sheriff Jacobs—to see me?”

“Oh!” Bridget cut in. “Yes. He’s agreed to give you away. He actually appeared honored to be asked.”

“Really?” Isabelle’s eyes widen with happy surprise. “Oh my, how lovely of him!” She gave herself another quick check over in the mirror, and then hiking up the hem of her dress, she rustled and flounced her way out of the room and down to the front hall. “Sheriff Jacobs!” she greeted him, and then stretched up to give him a kiss on his cheek. “How kind of you to take time out of your busy day, for little me.”

Jacobs smiled and actually blushed a little bit, at the feminine attention. “It’s an honor, Miss Isabelle,” he told her. “Can’t have you walking to the alter all on your own. That wouldn’t be proper, even if it is outdoors, even if it is going to be outdoors, and the alter is the horse trough…”

“You’re quite right,” Isabelle agreed, and she sent a scathing look back at Bridget. “I didn’t know what I was going to do, when Mr. Jordan backed out.”

“Now, don’t you go blaming him, Miss Isabelle,” Jacobs told her. “I’m sure he’s just as disappointed as you are.”

“Well, perhaps.”

“Here, Sheriff,” Bridget came forward, rearranging the bouquets in order to free up a hand. “Here’s your boutonniere.” 

“Oh, thank you, Bridget.”

“I’ll pin it on him,” Isabelle insisted, as she snatched the small box away from Bridget. “You have your hands full anyway.”

Gladys and Eugene burst through the front door, all breathless and excited.

“He’s in the square!” Eugene announced. “Harry and Jed are there now, waiting for you. And oh my, he looks so handsome.”

Isabelle smiled haughtily, as she pinned the boutonniere to the Sheriff’s lapel. “Yes, I am getting a very handsome husband, aren’t I?”

“Oh!” Eugene backed off a little. “Actually, I meant Jed. But Harry is a very fine looking man, as well.”

Isabelle sent her a scathing look, and Eugene quickly changed the subject.

“Oh! Our bouquets!” she exclaimed, and hurried forward to make claim on hers. “They are so lovely. Here Gladys, take yours.”

“Actually, since I’m the matron of honor, I get the larger of those two,” Gladys pointed out. “You get the small one.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Eugene smiled. “How silly of me.”

“You better take yours, Isabelle,” Bridget suggested. “I need to go meet up with my husband.” She hesitated, but then did what she knew was expected of her. She stepped forward and gave Isabelle a kiss on the unbruised side of her face. “You’re a lovely bride, and Harry will make a fine husband. You enjoy this day.”

“Why, thank you, Bridget,” Isabelle responded, smiling her pleasure. “And thank you, for all your help.”

“That’s alright,” Bridget said. “I’ll see you all later on.” Then stepping around the wedding party, she hastily made her exit, and went in search of Steven. 

Bridget got onto the main street, and paused for a moment to decide which way to go. To her left was the town square, where she could see the flood of people all gathered around on the grassy knoll. The ladies in the town had been busy, putting up ribbons and flowers, and getting tables and chairs set up for the reception luncheon. It almost looked as though the circus had come to town, with all the decorations, and children running around and playing. Sounds of conversation and festive laughter met her ears as everyone was anticipating the upcoming event. 

To her right, was the road that lead to David’s house, and where she and Steven had agreed to meet. The family had intended to all go down to the square together, but now, time was running short. Would her family still be at the house, or would they have already made their way to the site of the nuptials? If she headed to the house first, she might miss the ceremony, but if her family were waiting there for her, then to ignore them would be very rude.

Much to her relief, she heard her name being called from the direction of the square, and turning, she spied her husband waving at her from the sidelines. She smiled, and hiking up her skirts, she ran, most unladylike, to go meet up with him

“Thank goodness!” she exclaimed as she clasped his hand. “I wasn’t sure which way to go.”

“We figured you were detained,” Steven explained. “Everyone else has gone to find a good place for us to view the event, but I offered to stand on watch for you. Can’t have you missing the ceremony after all you have done to make it happen.”

“You’re a dear,” Bridget told him. “Is Mama doing alright?”

“Yes, she’s fine,” Steven assured her. “Your father was awake just before we left, and he told her to go, and have a good time. He would just sleep. David was going to stay behind, with him, but Merle would have none of that. She offered to stay, and keep watch, so everyone else could come.”

“That was sweet of her,” Bridget responded. “I hope she doesn’t mind, too much.”

“Basically, she said that she was relieved to not have to come, since she wasn’t that fond of Isabelle, anyway,” Steven confided in her. “But perhaps your mother will head back in a little while, to take over, so Merle can still enjoy some of the festivities.”

“Yes. We can all do that,” Bridget agreed. “Then nobody will get left out. Oh! There they are!”

Bridget had just spotted Beth waving at them from up front, near where Reverend Sykes was calmly discussing the details with Harry and Jed. 

Bridget and Steven picked up the pace, and quickly joined the rest of their family.

“Thank goodness, you made it!” Beth said. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” Bridget assured her. “Just the usual jitters, you know.” She went over to give her mother a hug. “Be prepared,” she warned her. “I can’t believe what Isabelle as done to our dress, but I’m sure we can put it all back to rights, once the ceremony is over.”

“I’m sure we can,” Belle answered. “How bad can it be?”

“Well…”

“Oh my goodness!” Belle exclaimed, and all eyes turned in the direction of the approaching bridal party. “She looks like a peach cream puff that grew feathers!”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Bridget whispered. “I should never have offered it.”

“Oh well,” Belle smiled and patted her daughter’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. A wedding dress is meant to be handed down, and it’s only fitting that each bride adds her own special signature to it. It’ll be fine.”

Bridget sighed, and she and Beth exchanged worried looks.

“I think it looks beautiful,” Sally added from her position, atop the park bench. “I like weddings.”

“Hello everyone,” came Martha’s voice from behind the group. “We were hoping to find you, before the ceremony got started.

Lom and Martha, along with Kenny and Sarah had been casually walking around, enjoying the sights, while they kept an eye out for the Jordan clan. Having spotted them, they made a hurried approach, and now settled in to await the bride.

All eyes were now upon the bride, as she made her way down the boardwalk, towards where the groom and his best man awaited her. Isabelle was smiling with ecstatic pleasure. She was the center of all the attention, and she intended to make the most of it. Sheriff Jacobs was looking plenty pleased himself, and walked along, with the bride on his arm, looking as proud as any honorable father would be, on such an occasion. 

“Oh dear,” Sarah commented. “She looks like a floating fruit bowl. Is that your dress, Belle?”

“It was,” Belle confirmed. “She has certainly turned it into an original design, hasn’t she?”

“I’ll say,” Martha agreed. “Still, it’s her day. And I think it’s fair to say that nobody is going to take it away from her.”

“But what’s wrong with it?” Sally asked. “I think it’s pretty.”

“That’s because you only read books about princesses and such,” Carol pointed out. “Real people don’t wear dresses like that.”

“Why not?” Sally asked again. “And I don’t just read books about princesses. I read lots of different books.”

“Hush, you two,” Maribelle told them. “The ceremony is about to begin.”

Xxx

Wheat, Kyle and Ames tried to make a discreet exit from the hotel after dropping off the all important boxes to the groom and his best man. Unfortunately, they only got as far as the lobby, when they came up nose to nose with Lom and Kenny, who, with their wives, were also heading out for the event. The three ex-outlaws were brought up short, and the two smaller ones of the three, backed off and diverted their eyes to anywhere other than Warden Reece.

“Eh, howdy Lom,” Wheat greeted their old friend. “Heading out for the weddin’, are ya’?”

“Yeah,” Lom admitted. “Though we were going to make sure that the Kid was alright, before we got out there.”

“Oh ah, yeah, he’s fine,” Wheat assured them, then tipped his hat to the ladies present. “Howdy.”

“Hello, Mr. Carlson,” Martha greeted him, and then smiled at Kyle. “Hello Mr. Murtry. Are you still reading your books?”

Kyle grinned like a schoolboy. “Yes ma’am,” he assured her. “I’ve been readin’ lots. I’m even teachin’ Ames here how ta’ write his letters.”

Everyone’s attention was diverted to Mr. Ames, who instantly colored up and looked down at his toes.

“That’s wonderful!” Martha exclaimed. “There’s little point in having knowledge, if you can’t pass it on.”

“That’s good to hear, Mr. Murtry,” Kenny told him. “Keep it up.”

“Yessir, Warden.”

“You gentlemen are looking dapper, this morning,” Sarah complimented them. “Nothing like a wedding to bring the best out in everyone.”

All three of the indicated gentlemen, shuffled their feet, and seemed at a loss for words. 

“Yeah, thank you,” Wheat finally spoke up for them all. “Can’t be showin up at a friend’s weddin’, lookin’ like yesterday’s washin, now can we?”

“No, indeed, Mr. Carlson,” Sarah agreed.

“We best be getting out there,” Lom interrupted. “Before the ceremony starts without us. See you later, boys. Stay out of trouble now.”

“Yeah, sure, Lom,” Wheat agreed. “We won’t be causin’ no trouble at all. Will we boys?” 

“Shoot, no!” Kyle seconded. “We’s just here fer a good time.”

“How about you, Mr. Ames?” Kenny questioned the youngster. “I know how these big gatherings can get you started. Are you handling things alright?”

“Oh.” Ames looked up, alarm showing in his eyes at being singled out by the warden. “No sir. I mean, yessir. I mean…”

“He’s doin’ real good, Mr. Reece, sir,” Kyle assured the warden. “He ain’t gonna do nothin’. Are ya’, Ames?”

“No!” Ames was adamant. “I won’t do nothin’!”

“Oh, Kenny, stop it,” Sarah reprimanded her husband. “You’re scaring the poor boy. You don’t have to be the warden all the time, you know.”

“I was just making sure that he was feeling comfortable with this situation,” Kenny defended himself. “I don’t want to see any of these fellas back in my care.”

“He was doing alright, until you started bullying him” Sarah pointed out.

“Bullying…?”

Sarah stepped forward and gave Ames’ arm a hug. “Don’t you worry about him,” she told the boy. “He’s still not recovered from his injuries. You go on out there, and have a good time with your friends.”

Ames grinned from ear to ear, feeling honored that the warden’s wife was actually holding his hand. “Yes ma’am,” he assured her. “And you got nothin’ ta’ worry about. I’m doin’ real well.”

“Yeah, ah, come on,” Wheat interrupted. “Let’s get on out there, before all the good spots are taken.”

“Yeah!” Kyle agreed. “Ah, see ya’ later Lom, Mrs. Trevors.” 

All three tipped their hats to the other group, and then made a hasty retreat, out the front door of the hotel.

Lom couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face, while Kenny was still struggling with the shock of his wife undermining him. 

“What did you do that for?” he asked her. “I was just giving him a reminder.”

“You were bullying him,” Sarah insisted, then smiled as she nestled up to him, and hugged his uninjured arm. “You need to know when to let go of these fellas. He’s with his friends; they won’t let him get up to any mischief.”

Lom’s grin turned into a full laugh.

“Oh, stop it!” Martha insisted. “Ames seems a nice enough young man, underneath it all. He really does seem to be trying.”

“I know he’s trying,” Lom agreed. “but Wheat and Kyle can get up to enough mischief on their own, without having a firebug in their midst.”

The two ladies looked exasperated, while Kenny smiled, feeling that he’d been exonerated. Sometimes, it took another lawman to understand the true nature of things. But then, he sobered, and considered the three men exiting the hotel.

“I must admit, they are doing well,” he commented. “Though Mr. Carlson is gruff with him, he does seem to have taken Mr. Ames under his wing. Perhaps giving him the guidance that he never had before. Someone to look up to. It’s a good thing.”

“I never would have thought of Wheat Carlson as anyone’s mentor,” Lom admitted. “But you do have a point. As long as all three of ‘em don’t start getting’ ideas…”

“Oh, you two!” Martha interrupted her husband. “Leave your work at home, for once. Look! Here comes Harry and Jed. We must hurry now, if we want to get out there, and settled before they arrive on the scene.”

The group sent waves and nods to the men coming down the stairs, and then made a discreet exit out of the hotel, to go and find a place for themselves.

Xxx

 

Wheat, Kyle and Ames got themselves situated close to where the food was being laid out. Far be it for them to be late for the vittles just because of a silly wedding. Ames was still looking pleased that Sarah had stood up for him against such an opposing figure as the warden, even if he was all covered in bruises and bandages. The fact that Sarah was the warden’s wife, and quite accustomed to putting him in his place, never even occurred to him. Kyle was still feeling a warm glow over Martha’s kind words. He sur did like her. She was always so nice to him. Wheat was busy scanning the crowd, looking for any wallets or handbags that were being left unattended—just out of habit, of course.

Once they were settled, all three sets of eyes were drawn to the enticing picnic area, and all three men began to salivate. The whole town had again, come together to make sure this wedding went off without a hitch. Whether it was because they were happy to see Isabelle finally married off, or because they felt some gratitude towards the groom and his friends, for their part in fighting the fire, could never truly be ascertained. But whatever the reason for it, there would be no shortage of food for the receptions. Salads, and chicken, and not to mention various types of baked goods, and even a frosted wedding cake, with peach colored icing, had found their way to the center table. 

On top of all that, there was also the roasted pork brought in that morning by the Robertsons. It seems that Floyd and his son had spent the whole previous day, tending to that pig. And then Helena and their daughter had gotten busy preparing the meat to be brought in for the festivities. There was going to be plenty to eat. 

The three men eyed the slabs of pork as the aroma of the roasted meat and freshly baked breads wafted its way over the gathering. Still, they managed to keep their appetites under control, until the time was appropriate. Even a gaggle of ex-outlaws knows a thing or two about etiquette. 

“That sure is a sight ta see, ain’t it?” Wheat asked, as they watched the bride being handed off to her groom. “Ole’ Harry looks like he’s seein’ a prairie chicken with the pox.”

“I think she looks purdy,” Kyle commented around his chaw. “I sure wouldn’t mind a gal like that.”

“Yeah,” Ames agreed. “She looks like a little flame, just gettin’ ready ta’ burst inta’ light.”

Wheat and Kyle turned to look at their underling.

“Do you have ta’ relate everything to fire?” Wheat asked him. “We’re at a weddin’, fer Christ’s sake, not a damn barn burnin’!”

Ames looked hurt, and bit his lower lip. Kyle stood up for him.

“He don’t mean nothin’, Wheat,” he said. “And he’s kinda right. She do look like she’s about ta’ explode inta one a them fruity drinks.”

Wheat snorted. “Yeah, ya got a point there.” Wheat grinned and elbowed Kyle in the ribs. “Look it there, he’s so dang nervous, he dropped the ring.”

“Hee, hee!” Kyle laughed. “Now, ain’t that a sight? Two ‘a ‘em down on their hands and knees, tryin’ ta’ find it!”

“Miss Isabelle don’t look pleased,” Ames noticed. “She ain’t gonna stomp off, is she?”

“She do seem to be buildin’ up a head a steam,” Wheat observed. “This could get interestin’.”

“There goes the sheriff,” Kyle added, as he chewed excitedly on his tobacco. “Down on his knees too. Woo hoo! This could turn int’a an interestin’ day after all!”

“Aww, dang it!” Wheat cursed. “Kid’s found it. Trust him to ruin all the fun.”

“She still don’t look too happy, though,” Ames added. “Looks like the reverend’s tryin’ ta hurry things along.”

“Harry’s fumblin’ the ring again,” Wheat informed them, disgust beginning to show in his tone. “Sure hope he handles himself better in the weddin’ bed.”

Kyle and Ames both chortled over that.

“Wow! Lookie at that!” Kyle exclaimed. “The Kid sur is fast. He done caught that ring in mid-air.”

“Miss Isabelle’s turnin’ red,” Ames stated. “We just might have a bon fire after all.”

“Harry’s tryin’ agin,” Kyle said. “Maybe, three times lucky.”

“Damn,” Wheat cursed. “Ole’ Kid’s havin’ ta’ hold Harry’s hand steady. There we go, that’s done it. Maybe Harry should take Kid with them tonight, help him ta get the job done.”

Kyle’s lopsided grin spread across his face as the visual picture took hold. “Maybe he could use more ‘n just the Kid’s help.”

“Yeah,” Ames agreed. “Maybe they could use a couple ‘a more hands.”

“Nah, that’s just gettin’ greedy,” Wheat countered. “I’m sure the Kid can handle it. Probably wouldn’t get much complainin’ from the young lady, neither.”

All three men broke up into lusty guffawing, until nasty looks from some of the other guests warned them to have some respect.

“Yeah, well…” Wheat puffed himself up and settled his buddies. “Ah, I’m sure Harry won’t have no trouble. ‘Sides, I expect we’ll be busy with our own entertainment, tonight. Ain’t that right, Kyle?”

Kyle sent a longing glance towards the lower end of town, and his grin grew. “Yeah, I expect you’re right, Wheat. Them ladies is getting’ to where they’s expectin’ us. Wouldn’t do ta’ go lettin’ em down. Havin my hands all bandaged up, don’t seem ta’ get in the way ‘a that activity, at all.”

Ames snickered into his hand.

Xxx

“Oh, good heavens!” Tricia covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Did Harry just drop the ring?” David asked, not quite believing his eyes.

Beth and Bridget turned and nearly fell into each other in their mirth.

“Shh, girls!” Belle reprimanded them. “Behave like the young ladies you are. This isn’t funny.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Sorry, Mama.”

But then they started laughing again, and even Belle couldn’t stop the smile that forced itself onto her face.

“What are they doing?” asked Sally. “Are Mr. Briscoe and Uncle Jed suppose to be down on their knees? I thought only the groom did that, and only when he asks the lady to marry him. Is Uncle Jed going to be marrying her too?”

“No! Don’t be silly!” Carol told her. “Mr. Briscoe dropped the ring. They’re both trying to find it.”

“And there goes Carl, down to help,” David observed.

“Jed’s found it!” Maribelle announced. “Thank goodness. That could have proved embarrassing.”

“By the look on Isabelle’s face, I think it already has,” Tricia pointed out. “Oh dear. I hope the rest of the ceremony goes without a hitch.”

“Oh my goodness!” Belle actually put a hand to her mouth, in her anxiety. “Oh, thank goodness for Thaddeus’ fast reflexes. This is getting too painful to watch.”

“There we go,” Beth smiled with spousal pride. “Jed’s got the ring on her finger. Let’s hope that’s the end of any surprises. I wasn’t this nervous at my own wedding!”

Everyone breathed a sigh a relief. 

“I think that’s got it,” Belle assured everyone. “Yes. They’re saying final vows now. That’s got it. There they are; Mr. and Mrs. Harry Briscoe. Clap, everyone!”

As though on Belle’s cue, the crowd opened up and began cheering the newlyweds. Ribbons and flower buds flew up into the air, while hoots and jokes from the men carried above the ladies’ words of congratulations and well wishes.

Over on the side lines, Lom stood, clapping, and shaking his head at the same time. “Trust it to Harry Briscoe to turn a simple ceremony into a shambles,” he grumbled. “I sure hope Miss Baird isn’t having second thoughts.”

“A little late for her to back out now,” Martha commented.

“The papers ain’t signed yet,” Lom reminded her. “She could if she wanted to.”

“I don’t think she will,” Sarah said. “Look at her face; she’s glowing. This is the happiest day of her life. Poor dear.”

Martha and Sarah broke up into giggles, like they were a pair of school girls.

“That was a terrible thing to say,” Martha reprimanded her, once she could get her breath. “they could end up being very happy together.”

“I certainly hope so,” Sarah agreed. “A far cry better than what she’s had here, from what I understand. I really do hope them the best.”

“Well, I’m getting tired,” said Kenny. “I need to find a place to sit down.”

“Oh! Of course,” Sarah was suddenly all business. “How thoughtless of me, with you just out of your sick bed. Come, let’s get a place at one of the tables, before everyone else beats us to it.”

Xxx

“C’mon Harry,” Jed whispered in the groom’s ear. “You’re supposed to kiss the bride.”

“What?” Harry was indignant. “You mean, right here, in front of everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Yes,” Reverend Sykes confirmed. “You may kiss your bride.”

“Now, he said ‘may’,” Harry pointed out. “That don’t mean I gotta.”

“Harry!” Isabelle looked like she was going to start crying—again.

“Oh, nothin against you, Peaches,” Harry soothed her ruffled feathers. “It just seems an awful personal thing to be doin’, right here in broad daylight.”

“Harry,” Jed growled at him. “Kiss your bride, or I’ll do it for ya’!”

Harry puffed up and sent the Kid a challenging glare. Isabelle smiled, but instantly dropped it as her groom turned to face her again. She smiled sweetly at him and closed her eyes in anticipation of the nuptial gesture. Harry sighed and fidgeted nervously, but then he did step forward and shyly planted his lips upon hers, and the deed was done. The crowd erupted with clapping and cheering, and the bride and groom beamed with pleasure at being the center of attention.

Reverend Sykes stepped forward to make his grand announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen! It is my pleasure to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Briscoe!”

Again, the assembly cheered and clapped, while pieces of ribbon and colored paper were thrown into the air as the couple made their way to the head table.

“Everybody, get yourselves a glass of something!” Sheriff Jacobs announced. “It’s time for some toasting, and some announcements! I think we have some fellas going around with champagne and wine, and some sodi pop for the youngsters.”

Somebody from the crowd confirmed this assumption, and soon, there were volunteers moving through the gathering of guests, handing out glasses filled with various different refreshments. Most people in the crowd found places to sit, where they could not only enjoy the speeches in comfort, but also enjoy the luncheon while seated at a table, rather than standing and trying to balance everything. Some of the older, and injured folks especially, need to find places to sit.

Once everyone had settled, Jacobs stood up again, and all eyes were upon him.

“I think it’s fitting now, that the best man say some words,” he announced. “So, Jed. The floor is yours.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

Jacobs grinned, knowingly. “Your welcome, son.”

Jed stood up and faced the expectant faces. “Folks,” he began. “I suppose, we all know one another pretty well by now. So you all know about my history, and how Harry here, came to be a part a’ that. I’ve known Harry comin’ on fifteen years or so, now, and I can honestly say that he is a unique individual.” Small pockets of chuckling accompanied this remark. “I can’t say as I’ve ever met anybody quite like him. He’s come a long way, too. Why, when Heyes and I first started havin’ dealin’s with Harry Briscoe, well, I’ll be honest with you folks; we didn’t think we could trust ‘im. He always seemed to be tryin’ ta’ pull somethin’ over on us. And yet, when we really needed him, he always came through. So, Isabelle, I think I can honestly say that you got yourself a man, fittin to be your husband. Yes, ma’am. You are two peas in a pod, and I can’t think of any other two people, more fittin’ ta’ come together than you two.” Jed raised his glass in a toast, and everyone else followed the example. “To Harry and Isabelle! May they always show the same love and respect to each other that they have shown to everyone else who can call them friends.”

“Here, here!”

“To Harry and Isabelle!”

“Thank you, Jed,” Isabelle smiled sweetly at him.

Glasses clinked together as the toast was made, and then Harry stood up to respond. “Yeah, thanks, Kid,” he commented as he prepared for his own speech. “You and Heyes have been good friends to me over the years, but, like I’ve said before; When it comes to you two boys, I believe nothin’ of what I don’t see, and only half ‘a what I do. But you’re still alright, yessir!”

More cheers, and drinking of the bubbly, and Harry, thinking his part was done, prepared to sit down again. Jed gave him a quick elbow in the ribs and brought him up short.

“What?” he growled at his best man.

“Ain’t ya’ gonna toast your bride, Harry?”

“Oh!” Harry smiled and gazed down into the batting eyes of his beloved. “Well, yes, of course,” he agreed, and cleared his throat with an air of importance. “To Isabelle…ahh…I’m a lucky man—yessir! Why, it still astounds me that this vision of feminine beauty was not only still available, but was willin’ to tie herself down to a will-o-the-wisp scoundrel such as myself.”

“Oh, Harry,” Isabelle blushed and smiled sweetly. “I like scoundrels.”

Gladys and Eugene giggled into their flowers, while those few in the front who over-heard the comment, snickered and rolled their eyes.

“Oh well… yes…” Harry blustered. “Yes, of course you do. That’s why, I’m sure we’ll make a great team. Yessir. A great team.”

“C’mon Harry, get on with it!” came a demand from the crowd, and Jed thought it sounded suspiciously like Wheat. “Don’t ya know we just come for the food?”

Laughter rose up from the crowd, and Harry smiled self-consciously.

“Oh, yes, of course,” he stammered, then raised his glass to his bride. “To Isabelle! Yessir. I’m a lucky man.”

More clinking of glasses, and the crowd began to disperse, with thoughts of heading towards the laid out luncheon. Before they could get too far though, Sheriff Jacobs raised his hand and his voice to get them all back to attention again.

“Hold up, folks!” he yelled out. “There’s a couple of more things to say here, before we all dig in.”

“Aw geesh,” Wheat grumbled. “These dang fool speeches always go on too long.”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed. “It kind’a reminds me ‘a bein’ up in Devil’s Hole, when Heyes would start goin’ on about the next job we’s gonna pull, and how we gotta listen up and pay attention…or somethin’ like that. I always fell asleep.”

Wheat snorted, as he recalled those good ole’ days. “Yeah, it’s no wonder ya’ didn’t know what was goin’ on half the time.”

Kyle grinned and commenced to chew on his tobacco.

“First off,” Jacobs continued. “if Mayor Kincade would mind coming up and joining us.”

Jed and Harry exchanged glances, and both shrugged.

Kincade made his way to the front of the crowd and joined the wedding party. He shook hands with Jacobs and then puffing up, with an air of self-importance, he turned to face the citizens of his town.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” came the usual address on such occasions as this. “First off I want to say how pleased I am at such a show of support and comradery towards Mr. Briscoe and his new wife…”

“What’s he goin’ on about?” Kyle asked. “I’m here fer the food.”

“Yeah,” Ames agreed. “I’m hungry. Why can’t we eat first, and do all this stuff later.”

“Cause he don’t want nobody ta’ leave, that’s why,” Wheat informed them out of the side of his mouth. “Damn. The smell a them pies is really getting’ distractin’, ain’t it?”

The three men turned as one, to scrutinize the table behind them that was laden with pastries and fruit pies just waiting to be eaten, only to find that some of the pies were already on that mission. A number of familiar little faces, undeniably smeared with pie innards, were staring out at them from underneath the nearest table.

“Wul, what in tarnation are you boys doin’ under there?” Kyle demanded to know, though it really should have been obvious.

“Nothin’,” came back J.J.’s mumbled reply.

“It don’t look like nothin’ ta me,” Wheat commented, and grinned wickedly. “Looks ta me like we got us some junior thievin’ goin’ on here.”

“The pies were put here for people to eat,” Todd reasoned. “So, we’re eatin’ ‘em.”

“That’s sound logic,” Wheat agreed. “Don’t it, boys?”

“I like that idea,” Ames spoke up, as he eyed the other pies that were still on the table top. “There seems to be enough for everyone.”

“Yeah,” Wheat seconded.

“I donno,” Kyle grumbled as he sent a guilty glance in the general direction of Lom and Kenny. “It don’t seem right ta’ me.”

“Ah, quit yur worryin’, Kyle,” Wheat told him. “I’m thinkin’ your time in prison has made an honest man outa ya’!”

“Wul…”

Sudden panicked commotion from under the table disrupted the argument, as the young boys scrambled to make their get-away. 

“Here comes your ma, J.J.,” Todd pointed out. “I’m outa here!”

“Yeah, and not to mention, your pa, Nathan!” J.J. observed. “Run!”

“But…” Nathan sat there, with blackberry filling all over his face, and his hands full of a half eaten pie. His dark eyes grew large as saucers when he saw the authorities converging on the picnic tables. He scrambled to his feet, shoved the pie into Kyle’s hands, and disappeared underneath the tables, heading for parts unknown.

“Hey!” Kyle complained as he stood, helplessly holding the evidence.

Belle smiled as the group approached the ex-outlaws.

“Mr. Murtry,” she commented, in mock sternness. “I would have thought, that you would at least wait, until the bride and groom had joined us.”

Kyle blushed. “But…no ma’am!”

“No?”

“I mean…I ain’t eatin’ it!” Kyle insisted. “It was them boys.”

“Well, that’s a fine thing,” Wheat growled. “You get caught in the act, and turn around an blame them innocent boys?”

“Wull…Wheat!”

“You can relax, Mr. Murtry,” Belle assured him as she came in and took his arm. “I don’t see any pie on your face, and with your hands bandaged as they are, I highly suspect that you are not the culprit.” 

“Yeah!” Kyle sent a reprimanding look to his partner.

“And really, Mr. Carlson?” Belle changed tactics. “Innocent boys? You blew you story, right there.”

“Why do I get the feeling that my son was involved in this somehow?” Tricia asked, suspiciously.

David nodded agreement.

Wheat snorted, but didn’t add any more comments.

“I do wish they would get on with these speeches,” Bridget commented. “The sooner I can get Isabelle out of that dress, the happier I’ll be.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Harry’s thinkin’ the same thing,” Ames smirked.

All eyes turned to the youngest member, and Ames blushed, realizing that he had probably gone too far.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, but you’re probably right,” Wheat told him, as he scooped up some pie from the plate that Kyle was still balancing on his sore hands. He took a bite of the fruit filled pastry, and then nearly choked on it, when he heard his name coming out of the mayor’s mouth.

“…we’d also like to thank Mr. Carlson, and of course his friends, Mr. Murtry, who sustained serious injuries while fighting the fire, and also… ah, who’s the other one…?”

“Ames,” Jacobs whispered to him.

“Oh yes! And of course, Mr. Ames. A round of applause for these three gentlemen,” the mayor continued. “Though they are not residents of our town, they showed selfless bravery in helping to fight the fire!”

Everyone turned to the ex-outlaws, clapping and cheering, and some even slapping them on the backs. Wheat did his best to not choke even further on his fruit pie.

“Also! Also!” the mayor continued, waving his hands in an effort to quiet the assembly. “As you all know, the Boultons couldn’t be here today to celebrate this happy event. Young Ben suffered some very bad burns while doing his best to protect this town. His ma is sitting vigil at his bedside in Denver, and his pa is busy tending to their ranch, but I know, they are well aware of the prayers and well wishes that we send on to them.” Some sombre head nodding and murmurs of agreement followed this statement. “We also have another fine citizen of our town, recovering from serious injuries. We all know Jesse Jordan, and what a fine pillar of strength and example he and his family are to all of us. I know he would have liked to be here, today, and we all wish him a swift recovery. Now, Belle Jordan, I know you’re out there. Could you please come up to the front?”

“Oh.” Belle was caught dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief, and she blinked with surprise at being singled out. “Now, what’s this all about?”

“You won’t find out by standing here,” Bridget told her. “Go on up.” 

“Only if you girls come with me.”

“Mama,” Beth complained. “He only asked for you.”

“I don’t care,” Belle responded. “If this has to do with your father, then you should be up there as well. Come along.”

The two young ladies exchanged glances, but they recognized that tone in their mother’s voice, and knew that there was no denying it.

Steven gave his wife and hug and a kiss, and sent her on her way. Beth caught her husband’s eye and silently asked him the question. Jed shrugged and shook his head. Isabelle was looking irritated, while Harry simply looked confused.

“What’s going on?” he whispered to his best man.

“Damned, if I know.”

Isabelle pouted. “This is our wedding!” she groused. “Why is the mayor turning it into a Jordan appreciation celebration?”

“Oh now, Peaches,” Harry soothed her as he patted her hand. “It won’t hurt to share the lime light for a quick acknowledgement.”

Isabelle huffed while Gladys and Eugene cooed with sympathetic support.

The Jordan ladies arrived at the front of the group, and while Beth instantly slipped into her husband’s embrace, and Bridget did a quick reckoning of the wedding dress, Belle approached the mayor. He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  
“Mrs. Jordan,” he smiled at her. “We have a few awards we would like to hand out, and we thought it would be fitting for you to have the honor, since they are on behalf of your husband.”

“Oh,” Belle responded. “My goodness, Mr. Mayor. So many people went beyond expectation while fighting that fire. We should not be singled out.”

Isabelle leaned over towards her two friends. “My thoughts exactly,” she whispered. “This was supposed to be my day.”

Eugene and Gladys both nodded agreement, and sent daggers towards the Jordans. Just who did they think they were, anyways?

“I don’t agree, Mrs. Jordan,” Mayor Kincade insisted. “Your whole family have always given more than what’s expected to this town. It’s time you got some acknowledgement back.” He then waved to his assistant, who quickly came forward, his arms full of various items due to be handed out. “It’s my pleasure to give to you and your family, this plaque and inscription to express our gratitude.”

“Oh my, how lovely,” Belle accepted. “Thank you, so much.”

“The town is also going to pay for your husband’s medical expenses,” the mayor added.

“Oh no,” Belle as adamant. “No, no. There’s no need for that. Surely there are others in town who will need the assistance more. Perhaps you could offer that to Ben’s folks instead.”

“Whatever you wish, Mrs. Jordan,” the mayor agreed. “It’s yours to pass on, if that is what you would prefer to do.”

“Yes, please,” Belle reiterated. “They’ll need it far more than us.”

“Just another example of what a fine and generous family the Jordans are!” Mayor Kincade announced to the crowd, and everyone cheered.

Belle felt like disappearing into the ground. “This is ridiculous,” she whispered to Beth. “This is Harry and Isabelle’s day.”

“Oh, Mama,” Beth admonished her. “Just relax and enjoy it. Isabelle is still having her day.”

“Next!” the mayor continued. “Sam Jefferies! Where are you, young man?”

Sam cringed; he’d been afraid of this. 

Maribelle gave him a push. “Go on!”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

Sam made his way to the front and accepted the handshake given to him by the mayor.

“You proved yourself to be a brave and loyal young man,” Kincade told him. “If it wasn’t for your determination in getting a team of horses, and a wagon, to return for your friends, well, this would be a much more sombre gathering here today.”

“Oh, yessir.”

“Now, we know that Mr. Jordan has offered to get you another horse, and a fine one, I’m sure he’ll be,” the mayor continued. “but the town of Brookswood would like to show their appreciation of your bravery and selflessness, by offering to pay for the rigging that’s of quality enough to befit one of the Double J’s fine horses.”

“Oh!” Sam perked up, and smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Mayor.”

“You’re welcome, young man,” Kincade responded, puffing himself up with his generosity, and enjoying the attention from the crowd. Elections were just around the corner.

Jed gave Sam a quick congratulatory pat on the back, and Sam, now all grins, returned to receive a kiss and a hug from his wife.

“And now!” Kincade announced again. “Harry Briscoe!”

“Huh?” Harry was taken by surprise.

Isabelle squeaked with pleasure.

“Yessir, Mr. Briscoe!” and Kincade began to vigorously shake his hand. “You might not be a resident of this town. Although,” he sent a quick glance over to Isabelle. “You may well be soon. But, in any case, you’re not one now, and you sure weren’t when you put your life on the line to help your friends.”

Harry grinned with pleasure. This was making his day. “Well, Mr. Mayor, when you’ve been in the service of the community for as long as I have, why, it’s simply second nature to give a hand where one is needed. It’s the Bannerman way.”

“Yes, quite.” The mayor picked up another plaque and handed it to the groom. “In appreciation for all you did in helping to bring Mr. Jordan back to safety. And…” he took an envelope from his assistant, and also handed that over to the detective. “here is a further gift from the town; the key to the finest room in our hotel, plus breakfast delivered to your room in the morning, and a little extra cash to help finance your honeymoon.”

Hoots and hollers followed the mention of a hotel room, and rather than being embarrassed by the insinuendo, Isabelle beamed with pleasure. She wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck and gave him a full, deep kiss on the mouth. Jed thought for sure that she was going to suffocate her groom and end the honeymoon before it had even begun. Fortunately, she came up for air just in time, and Harry gasped in an effort to avoid passing out. This, of course, caused even more hoots and laughter while the newly married couple grinned and waved back.

Again, the mayor was forced to wave his hands about, in order to bring the assembly under control.

“Just a couple of more mentions,” Kincade assured everyone. “Then we can eat.”

Appreciative cheers went up, and a few eyes drifted towards the food laden tables.

The mayor glanced at the next plague and made his announcement. “Ken Reece!”

“Oh, dammit!” Kenny cursed, then smiled at his wife. “Why don’t you go up and get it? I’m quite comfortable, right here.”

“Come on,” Sarah teased him. “You can manage a walk up there to get your plague. You can hang it in your office.”

Kenny sighed, but with his wife’s persistent tugging, he did haul himself to his feet, and make his way to the front. Sarah came along, just to make sure he made it all the way.

“Mr. Reece,” Kincade greeted him. “Here is a plague for you as well. Again, even though you are not a resident of this town, your efforts to save the life of one of our most prominent citizens has not gone unnoticed. All your medical expenses will be covered, as well as your hotel stay and meals while you’ve been here. On top of that, anytime you and your family want to come back to visit us, all your accommodations will be covered by the mayor’s office. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Kenny managed to get out, and handing over the plague to Sarah, to free up his good arm, the two men shook hands.

Kenny turned, and was met by Jed’s grinning expression.

“Now weren’t that worth everything ya’ went through?” Jed asked him, as they also shook hands. “Now you can come visit our little town any time you like. Heyes will be thrilled.”

Kenny rolled his eyes, but he smiled as well, feeling honoured to be acknowledged for his efforts. “I’ll be sure to give him a head’s up.”

“Uh huh.”

Then Kenny offered his hand to Briscoe. “Harry. Congratulations, on more than one count.”

“Why, thank you, Warden,” Harry responded. “I always try to do my bit, you know.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Now, finally…” the mayor announced again, but was drowned out by intense cheering. He waited a moment until the fracas quieted and then tried again. “You know, you’re only making this take longer with your jubilance,” he teased, and was met by polite laughter. “So, finally…” more cheers, but things quieted down quickly, and the mayor continued. “Mr. Jedediah Curry…” more cheers and clapping, and Jed smiled sardonically at Kenny. He knew he wasn’t going to get out of this untouched. The mayor offered his hand, and he and Jed exchanged the formal greeting. “I dare say, I never thought I would be offering the keys to the city to a notorious outlaw.” More laughter and clapping. “But now I feel honored to do it. Mr. Curry, I must admit that when you took up residence in our town, I had some serious concerns, but, the Jordans had accepted you and supported you, in your efforts to turn your life around, and their recommendation went a long way to convince me to give you a chance. I sure am glad that I did. Even before this fire pushed us all to our limits, and beyond, you had proved yourself to be a valuable citizen here in Brookswood. Now, in appreciation for all that you have done, I present to you, the key to the city. Congratulations.”

More cheers and clapping rose up from the assembly, and Beth smiled with pleasure at her husband being so honored. Jed accepted the token key and tried to hide his confusion over what was so special about this symbol. But, he couldn’t deny feeling pleased about being accepted by the officials of his adopted home town, and it was this honor that he appreciated and would hold dear.

“Ah, thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Jed responded and shook hands with the man again. “It’s a real pleasure.”

“Congratulations, Jed,” Kenny told him. “You deserve it.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

Jed felt another touch on his shoulder and turned to see Jacobs offering his hand. Jed accepted it, and was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed by all this attention.

“You’ve done well, Jed,” Jacobs told him. “Congratulations.”

“Yessir,” Kincade continued. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I find myself presenting a similar honor upon your partner one of these days. Although, I must admit that it might be a waste of time giving Hannibal Heyes a key to the city, since he is quite capable of opening any lock that he chooses anyway!” Some more laughter came up from the crowd, at the mayor’s attempt at a small joke. “But now,” he continued. “back to the festivities! This has been a fine treat for many of us here today. This town needed something fun and positive to bring us up out of the tragedies that many of us have recently endured. I personally want to thank Harry and Isabelle for allowing us to take part in their special day, and to make it a festive event for the whole town. Raise your glasses, everyone! To the newlyweds! Harry and Isabelle Briscoe!”

A roar came up from the crowd, as the toast was repeated with emphasis from everyone. Glasses clinked and more beverages were downed in honor of the couple.

Isabelle was in her heyday, now that the attention had been transferred back to her. She hung on possessively to her husband’s arm, and smiled smugly out at the crowd. Harry seemed quite pleased to have people cheering for him, for a change, and he nodded and grinned, and raised his glass to the crowd. This was turning into a fine day.

 

“So,” Kyle grumbled, as the wedding group and honored guests began to disperse. “can we eat now?”

Xxx

An hour later, Belle, Beth, Tricia and Mirabelle had gathered up their rambunctious children and were heading back to the Gibson household to release the youngsters from their restricting Sunday bests. Not that the boys allowed themselves to be restricted while wearing their finery, but everyone would feel much more comfortable, once the good clothes were put away, before more than pie remnants and dirt could be added to the casualty list.

Belle was also anxious to return to her husband. She knew that Merle would have come for her, if there had been any problems, but she still felt the need to tend to Jesse herself. Besides that, Merle should be able to attend the festivities as well. Even though she, herself, had no interest in the wedding, her son had been honored, and it was only fitting that she be able to share part of this special day with him.

“How is everything going?” Belle asked, as the families invaded the small home.

“Fine,” Merle assured everyone. “I do believe that Jesse is asleep.”

“Not any more,” came the quiet response from the bedroom. “There’s nothing like a herd of stampeding children to rattle the floor boards.”

Merle and Belle exchanged smiles.

“I brought some lunch for you,” Belle called to him. “I’ll be in there in a moment.”

Whatever response was sent back to her, was lost in the boisterous conversation of the numerous children.

“Once I get changed, can I go riding?” Sally asked her grandma.

“Oh, not today, Sweetheart,” came the disappointing response. “I don’t want you going out by yourself, and all the adults are busy today.”

“Aww!” Sally complained. “Papa lets me ride alone.”

“Well, I’m not your papa, young lady,” Belle countered. “and I would prefer that you not go out riding on your own. Not today. There is too much going on in town, and too many people here, whom we don’t know.”

Sally slumped in disappointment, but she accepted the decree.

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Beth suggested. “Maybe there will be a few of us who would appreciate a ride, after all this hubbub.”

“There’s an idea,” Tricia agreed. “I haven’t been out for a ride in ages.”

Sally instantly brightened up. “Yes!” she agreed. “Tomorrow, we can all go!” And she ran off, down to the back room to get changed, so she could go outside and play.

“Alright, you two,” Maribelle singled out her brood. “off you go, and get changed. Carol, you help your brother.”

“I don’t need any help!” Todd protested. “I’m not a baby!”

“Well, you’re certainly not a grown man, either,” his mother scolded him. “not after your behavior this morning. Stealing pies—really!”

“That goes for you, as well, J.J.,” Belle seconded. “I thought you had better manners than that.”

“It was Nathan’s idea!” J.J. protested.

“You’re the oldest,” Belle pointed out. “You should lead by example.”

“It was not my idea!” Nathan countered in his own defense. “Besides, Mr. Carlson was there, and he thought it was great.”

Tricia laughed. “You’re presenting a man who has spent most of his life living as an outlaw, as your example of morality?” she asked her son. “I would think you could do better than that.”

Nathan pouted. “But everybody says he’s doin’ good now.”

“Doing well,” Tricia corrected him.

“Yeah.”

Tricia sighed. 

Belle smiled and patted her hand. “Don’t worry,” she assured the younger woman. “It will all come together in time.”

Todd came running back down the hallway and re-joined the group. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Wait!” J.J. complained. “We ain’t changed yet.”

“We’re not changed yet,” Belle corrected him, but her advice fell upon deaf ears.

“C’mon, I’ll race ya’!” Nathan challenged his older friend, and the two boys took off at a run.

Scurrying down the hall, they scooted around Carol and Sally, who were done changing, and they ducked into Nathan’s room and quickly got rid of their Sunday best.

It was at this point that the two infants gave up the pretense of still being asleep, and began to compete with each other over who had the biggest lung capacity.

“Oh dear, not a moments rest,” Tricia observed. “As soon as I get one dealt with and out of my hair, and the other one wants attention.”

“It does sound like time for another feeding,” Beth agreed. “Come on Trich, we can keep each other company while we appease the little monsters.”

“And I better go in and feed my husband,” Belle announced. “before he falls off to sleep again.”

“Fat chance of that!” came Jesse’s voice. “I thought we were done with babies crying.”

Belle and Merle exchanged a look, and both started to laugh.

“Come along, Mother,” Maribelle said, as she linked her arm in with her mother-in-law’s. “It’s time you got out, and had some fun now. Sam is very pleased with himself; he was given a plaque with a lovely inscription on it, and a new set of riding gear, out of appreciation for his help during the fire.”

“Really?” Merle beamed. “Oh, I must see that! I’ll see you later, Belle.”

“Yes, do go ahead,” Belle agreed. “And thank you for sitting with Jesse. It was nice to get out for a while.” 

“I heard that!” Jesse announced, his voice sounding stronger than it had for days. “That’s a fine thing, when my own wife would rather be out partying, than spending time with her injured and bed-ridden husband.”

Belle smiled at her husband’s teasing. It suggested that he was feeling better, and after all that they had been through, this was a very good sign. Then, quick as a snake, she reached out and snatched her son’s arm, just as the two boys were making a dash for the door.

“Hold on, J.J.!”

“But Ma! They’re waitin’ for me!”

“They can wait a moment longer,” she told him. “Look at me.” J.J. clucked in frustration, but did as he was told. “You behave yourself out there now, you hear me? I know what you three boys are like, when you run amok together, and there’s been enough shenanigans.”

“Yes, Mama.”

“Where are you going?”

J.J. shrugged. “I donno.”

“The fort?” Nathan suggested, from the doorway.

“Yeah!” J.J. agreed. “The fort!”

“Alright,” Belle agreed. “But mind that you stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, Mama!” J.J. quickly agreed, as he made a rush for the open door, and freedom.

Belle sighed and shook her head, as she turned to prepare her husband’s lunch. “It’s like telling a fish not to swim,” she muttered to herself.

Xxx

The night sky was blushing into evening by the time the reception broke up, and the townsfolk began making their way back to their homes. At the Gibson household, the visiting children were sitting around the kitchen table, eating roast pork and potato salad, while they waited for their parents to come and collect them. Belle was sitting in the front bedroom, in quiet conversation with her husband, when the young adults, and Merle returned for the night.

Tricia’s sigh of relief was audible, as she poked her head into the bedroom. “Shall I make some tea? Or are either of you hungry?”

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Belle assured her, “but some tea would be lovely.”

Beth, Jed, Bridget and Steven all piled into the front bedroom to give an account of the afternoon, and then say goodnight to their elders. Everyone was tired, but pleased with the completion of the day.

“So, Harry and Isabelle are now safely married, are they?” Jesse asked. “No foul-ups?”

“There were a few near misses,” Steven admitted. “But thanks to Jed’s quick actions, nothing disastrous took place.”

“Isabelle was practically insufferable in her smugness,” Beth complained. “But at least she is going to be out of our hair for a while now. They’ll be taking the train to Denver in the morning. Then that will be it, thank goodness. Off on their honeymoon, and then back to Harry’s apartment. I hope they live happily ever after.”

“I’m sure they will,” Belle agreed, optimistically. “Did she throw the bouquet?”

“Oh, yes!” Bridget informed them. “Yes, Pansy caught it.”

“Yeah!” Jed laughed out loud. “I don’t know if Joe was pleased, or scared to death. I suppose time will tell on that one.”

“Yes,” said Belle. “As always.”

“And don’t worry about your dress, Mama,” Bridget assured her. “Isabelle promised to hand it over to Gladys tomorrow morning, before she and Harry leave town. I’ll be over there, bright and early, to help them dismember that atrocity, and to make sure they do it properly! That’ll be a project for us tomorrow, Beth. To get all those pearls and buttons sown back on. I do hope we can get it back to its original state.”

“It will be, what it will be,” Belle prophesized. “Every time a wedding dress is worn, it is changed to some degree. A proper wedding dress will eventually have its own story to tell.”

“Just as long as it’s not a nightmare,” Bridget commented.

Merle popped her head through the doorway and got everyone’s attention. “I believe we are going to head back to Heyes’ place now,” she informed them. “Will you be along soon?”

“Oh yes,” Beth agreed emphatically. “I’m sure everyone is tired, and would appreciate an early night.”

“Mm hmm,” Merle nodded. “I’ll go on ahead and put the kettle on.”

And with that, she disappeared, taking the rest of her family with her.

“Well,” Beth sighed. “I better get T.J., and let everyone here get settled for the night.”

“Good idea,” Jed agreed. “Goodnight folks. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Beth leaned over and gave her papa a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight,” she told him. “You’re looking much better today, but you still need your rest.”

Jesse smiled at his youngest daughter, giving him a lecture. “Goodnight, Sweetheart. Goodnight, Jed.”

“Yeah, goodnight,” Jed returned.

“Goodnight, Mama.”

More kisses and hugs where exchanged, and the Curry’s left to gather up their son and get settled in at Heyes’ place for the night.

Then it was the Grangers turn to say their goodnights. They planned to stay in town one more day, and spend more time with family, before heading back to Denver themselves. They knew that their children were fine in the care of their nanny, so one more day wasn’t going to matter too much.

“Goodnight, Papa,” Bridget said, as she also leaned down to give her father a kiss. “Have a good night, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” Jesse returned, as he kissed his oldest daughter, but a hint of a frown crossed his face as Bridget drew back. He sent a quick glance to Steven, but his son-in-law was saying his goodbyes to Belle, and didn’t pick up on it.

“Goodnight,” Belle said to them. “Sleep well.”

“I’m sure we will,” Steven agreed. “It’s been a very eventful day.”

“Yes!” Bridget concurred. “And tomorrow could be even busier. Goodnight everyone.”

The young couple left, and Belle and Jesse just had enough time to smile at each other, when Tricia popped in for an instant.

“Tea is just about ready, if you would like some,” she announced. “I’m going to get the children settled into bed, and then we’ll join you.”

“That would be lovely, Tricia,” Belle said. “I’ll be right out.” She turned back to her husband, and patted his good hand. “Would you like some tea?”

Jesse was lost in his own thoughts, but he came back to the present with his wife’s question. “Oh yes,” he responded automatically. “That would be nice.”

“I’ll be right back,” Belle assured him, and she rose up and left the room to prepare their tea for the evening.

Jesse settled back into his pillow and allowed his thoughts to wander again. Anxiety came across his features and his brain went into overtime. Was that a bruise he had seen on his daughter’s cheek bone? It was hard to tell. She had obviously patted her face down with powder and added a bit of color to her cheeks, as is normal for a young woman attending a special occasion, but was there more to it than that? Was she trying to hide something? His brows knitted together as an angry vision came to invade his thoughts. Was Steven hitting her? No, that couldn’t possibly be the case. Surely, he could not have misjudged Steven that much. But if Steven was hitting her, wouldn’t Bridget have come to them about it? Or would her pride prevent her from doing that? Surely, she must know, that she could always come home, if she ever found herself in that kind of danger. She could always come home.

“Here you are, dear,” Belle handed him a cup of steaming tea. “This should help you settle for the night.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jesse said as he took the cup from her. “I hope so.”

Xxx

Belle could feel her husband’s restlessness. She had drawn the cot over, to rest against his bed, so they could at least come close to simulating their shared bed at home. But now it was after midnight, and he was still awake, despite the sedative that David had given him earlier that evening. She knew that something was bothering him, but she still hesitated to ask. Some questions were best left unanswered. Finally, though, she couldn’t take the stress any longer, and she broke down.

“Is something troubling you?” she asked innocently.

A heavy sigh came from the other bed.

“Is Bridget happy?” the husband finally asked.

“Yes, of course!” Belle answered, surprised that her husband might think otherwise.

“She hasn’t said anything to you about—being mistreated, or anything?”

Belle frowned in the darkness. “No.”

“So, things are good between her and Steven?”

Belle hoisted herself up on an elbow and gazed at her husband through the darkness, even though she could not see him. “Yes. What has brought you to think otherwise?”

“I don’t know,” Jesse whispered. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“When she kissed me goodnight earlier, I thought I saw some bruising hidden beneath the powder,” Jesse admitted. “Is Steven hitting her?”

“No!” Belle denied, adamantly. “He would never lay a hand on her. And you know, as well as I do, that if he ever did, she would not hesitate to let us know. Bridget would not put up with that!”

“That’s what I thought,” Jesse agreed. “And yet, she had a black eye. If not from Steven, then…?”

Now Belle found herself in a dilemma. Never, in the span of their long marriage, had she ever lied to her husband, when he asked a direct question. Even when it came to Beth and Jed’s indiscretion before they were married, if Jesse had ever asked outright, if anything had happened between the young couple, Belle would have told him the truth. But her husband had never asked, thank goodness, so Belle had felt no obligation to enlighten him upon the subject.

But this? The timing was all wrong. Belle knew, that if she told her husband the truth, he would be furious, and he would be awake all night. And, he would insist on doing something about it, right then and there. This was the last thing he needed. He had to rest, and he would not rest, if Belle told him the truth.

She made her decision in a heartbeat. “She had an accident.”

“An accident?”

“Yes,” Belle confirmed. “It’s nothing serious. We’ll discuss it later, when you’re feeling better.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Belle knew she had said the wrong thing. Instantly she felt her husband tense.

“We’ll discuss it later?” Jesse asked. “In other words; it’s not something you wish to discuss now.”

Belle sighed. Oh dear. “Jesse, you must trust me on this,” Belle reiterated. “Steven is aware of what happened, and they are dealing with it. Steven is her husband now, it is up to him to look after her, and he is doing that. Trust him, please. Trust him to handle this.”

Jesse was silent for a moment. He was used to being the patriarch, the one who was in control of everything regarding his family. Relinquishing that responsibility was proving to be difficult. Finally, he relented.

“Steven is looking out for her?”

“Yes,” Belle confirmed. “He’s a good husband, Jesse. Bridget could not have chosen better. Let it be.”

Heavy sigh from the father of two daughters. “Alright.”

Jesse slowly began to fade. It’s not that he felt any sense of resolution from this talk, but more that the sedative from David was finally conquering his restless thoughts and settling his mind into sleep. 

Belle felt relief wash over her. They couldn’t keep the truth from Jesse for ever, nor did they want to. But not now; he needed time to recuperate. That is what was important. Still, just how long could they hope to keep it from him? She knew this wasn’t over; Jesse would be asking questions again, and Belle couldn’t avoid the tough answers forever.

Xxx

The following morning, Jed and Beth, and Steven and Bridget, were at the train station to see Harry and Isabelle off on their honeymoon. Both newlyweds were looking extremely pleased with themselves, not to mention a little bleary eyed with exhaustion. It would appear that their wedding night had been a complete success.

“Just where are you going on your honeymoon?” Jed asked. “That never was discussed.”

“We’re going to New York!” Isabelle stated, proudly.

“New York!?” Jed repeated, impressed with the chosen location. “That’ll be some honeymoon.”

Isabelle beamed, and snuggled up to her husband. “It will be wonderful, won’t it? All the theatres, and the restaurants, not to mention the shops! I can’t wait!”

“Well Peaches, there aren’t too many shops or theatre in Buffalo,” Harry informed her. “And that’s where we’re goin’, yessir!”

Isabelle looked stricken. “Buffalo!?”

“Well yeah!” Harry confirmed. “That’s where I’m from. I got family in Buffalo, New York. I want them all to meet my little Peaches.”

“Buffalo!?” Isabelle repeated. “You said you were taking me to New York!”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Buffalo is in New York.”

Isabelle was starting to go red in the face, and she actually stamped her foot. “I want to go to New York City!”

“Oh.” Harry paled noticeably. “Well, of course, Peaches,” he was quick to cover his bases. “Didn’t I say that we would be going to New York City after we spent a few days in Buffalo?”

“Oh,” Isabelle began to calm down. “Yes, I thought that is what you said.”

Harry smiled, and patted her hand. “Of course. Can’t go to New York State without going to New York City, now can we?”

Isabelle grinned, and snuggled in beside her new husband, once again. Harry looked concerned, wondering how he was going to pull this off.

“Now that sounds real fine,” Jed commented. “That’ll be a real nice honeymoon.”

“And don’t you worry about all the ribbons and lace from the wedding dress,” Bridget assured the bride. “I’ll make sure that everything gets put aside for you. Will you be coming back here, after your trip?”

“Oh, good heavens, no!” Isabelle declared. “We’ll be heading straight to Harry’s apartment in Denver. Well, our apartment now! There’s no need to come back here for anything!”

“Oh.” Beth and Bridget looked at each other.

“Well, don’t worry about it,” Bridget assured her. “We’ll make sure that all your things get sent to your Denver address.”

“Thank you,” Isabelle responded. “But I’m sure that Gladys and Eugene have it all under control. All of my additions have been removed from it, haven’t they?”

“Oh yes,” Bridget assured her. “Your friends said that they would package them all up in a box to send to you, when you get back to Denver.”

“Well then, there you go,” Isabelle stated. “Everything is under control. You girls don’t need to worry about it.”

“Fine,” Beth said, with a hint of exasperation. “We’ll let you know if anything is amiss.”

Isabelle smiled and nodded. She might have said more, but the train whistle, indication an all aboard, sounded loudly, and their conversation was interrupted.

“Well,” Jed held out his hand to Harry for shaking. “Have a good time, Harry. We’ll let you know when we need ya’ to help us out.”

“Sure Kid, sure,” Harry agreed. “You know I’m always available to help out, with you and Heyes. And I know you fellas are new to the detecting business, so anytime you need my expertise advise, I’ll be glad to give it.”

“Yeah, Harry,” Jed commented. “We’ll let ya’ know.”

Steven held out his hand for shaking. “Take care, Harry, Mrs. Briscoe…” Isabelle beamed with pleasure at the use of her new formal name. “This has been an experience worth remembering.”

“It certainly has!” Harry agreed. “Well boys, we must be off. Stay out of trouble now!”

They waved their goodbyes, and then Harry and Isabelle were aboard the train and getting settled into their seats for the short trip to Denver.

“Well!” Isabelle stated emphatically. “What a relief! I hope to never have to lay eyes on those people again.”

Harry was left speechless. Heyes and the Kid were the two best friends he had. Just what did his new wife expect was going to happen?

Xxx

Half an hour later, the large round table in the Brookswood café was occupied to capacity. Beth and Jed, Bridget and Steven, Lom and Martha, Kenny and Sarah, David and Tricia and then the three bachelors, Wheat, Kyle and Ames, were all seated and getting ready to order a late breakfast. They were a lively group, now that the wedding stresses were gone, and the newlyweds were happily on their way. Everyone was relaxed and jovial, and the coffee tasted especially good.

“This has been an interesting visit,” Steven commented. “I don’t think any of us are going to be forgetting about it, anytime soon.”

This understatement was met with various different verbal acquiescence from around the table.

“Thank goodness things have calmed down now,” David commented. “I don’t need any more patients, thank you very much. It would be nice to know how Ben is doing, though.”

“Relax, David,” Tricia advised him. “He’s in one of the best hospitals in the West. You can’t take them all on.”

“I know,” David agreed. “I’d just like to know how he’s doing.”

“It would be interesting to know what happened to him out there,” Jed added. “Maybe when he’s up to it, he’ll give us an accounting.”

“If he remembers,” Steven commented. “Hard telling, with something like this. It may all be lost to him.”

Jed thought back to what his partner had gone through, completely forgetting about his younger sister, and all the trauma that had accompanied that event. He would have thought it impossible, if he hadn’t experienced a similar incident himself. Hopefully, Ben’s memories would stay with him, once he woke up from this ordeal. Burying it, only to have it arise later, unannounced, was an extremely traumatic experience to go through.

“He does look to be a good lad,” Jed added. “I hope he comes through alright.” 

“Where are you boys headed?” Lom asked the three ex-outlaws, who were sitting across from him.

“Oh.” Wheat shifted a bit, and sat up straighter. “Well, we had plans to head over to California,” he informed the group. “I still don’t do so well in the winters up here.”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed. “We only stayed this long fer Harry’s weddin’. An’ that fire only made things worse. It’s a good think you stayed outa that, Wheat. Dang, my lungs is still burnin’ from that smoke.”

“Me too,” Ames agreed. “But it sure was purdy.”

Wheat sent Ames a smirk, and then voiced everyone’s opinion. “You know boy, you really do worry me sometimes,” he growled. “Ain’t you ever gonna get over yer love affair with those flames?”

“I donno,” Ames answered. “Do I need to?”

“Hell yeah!” Wheat snarked. “It ain’t natural!”

“What do ya’ mean, ‘It ain’t natural’?” Ames retorted, defending his love. “You like it fer the heat it gives, fer the food it cooks, and fer the company it gives ya’ on a cold, lonely night. Don’t tell me ya don’t.”

“Wull, yeah, sure I do,” Wheat agreed. “But that don’t mean I worship it. You worship it, boy. You’re downright in a love affair with it, and that ain’t healthy.”

“I don’t see what you got against…”

Wheat started to puff up at this little upstart arguing with him, but Jed jumped in to defuse the situation.

“Alright!” he said. “Let it go. I think we’ve all had enough of fire for a lifetime. Well, exceptin’ Ames, I suppose. But that don’t matter none. As long as he’s behavin’ himself, it don’t matter none.”

“I can agree with that,” Kenny put in. “Many people have passions. Some of those passions are unsavoury to many of us, but there’s no crime in that. As long as they keep those passions under control, and don’t act on them, there’s nothing illegal about it. Otherwise Jed, your partner would still be in prison, and you would have joined him, just for thinking about pulling a job. And don’t tell me that you haven’t ever thought about it.”

“Hey,” Jed commented, coming defensive. “Since when was this about me?”

“Since you’re such a good example of wanting to do something, but having the self control to not do it,” Kenny informed him. “In many ways, it’s an honorable thing. Isn’t that right, Mr. Ames?”

Ames smiled, self-consciously. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Nothin’ wrong with it.”

“Yeah, well,” Wheat grumbled as he thought about the cashier’s till in the feed store. “Just don’t’ go startin’ no fires that we don’t know about, first.”

“Sure, Wheat.”

“When are you headin’ home, Lom?” Jed asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Martha and I will be catching the train tonight,” Lom told him. “It’s time I got back to my job. Harker is fine, but he’s got a life too.”

“I’m looking forward to getting back to my own home, and bed,” Martha added. “This visit was extended longer than we had anticipated.”

“Yes!” Kenny agreed. “I think we’ll be on the same train as Lom and Martha. It’s time we got back. Once I get rested up, we’ll be heading back East to meet our son’s new lady. We might have a wedding of our own coming up soon.”

“That would be real fine,” Jed commented. “Is it your eldest?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kenny nodded. “I guess it comes to us all. They do grow up fast, though.”

“Yes,” Sarah agreed. “It’ll be strange. I suppose he’ll want to stay back East, if he marries into that family.”

“There’s not much to offer him, in Laramie,” Kenny pointed out. “I doubt that any of our children want to work at the prison. It may be that most of them will leave to fine their own way.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Sarah admonished him. “Just the thought of one of them leaving home, is enough to break my heart.”

“I remember, it was real hard on your ma, Bridget, when you moved to Denver,” Jed pointed out. “I guess a mother takes it hard.”

“She did?” Bridget asked. “She never let on.”

“Another job of a mother,” Jed observed. “don’t let ‘em know that your heart is breaking.”

“Ouch!” Bridget complained. “Now I feel guilty! But we had to move to Denver; that’s where Steven’s practice is.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “And she knows that. She’s okay with it now, Bridget. Just at the time, it was hard on her. Speakin’ of which, are you folks staying in town a bit longer?”

“At least until tomorrow morning,” Steven confirmed. “I’ve already spoken to Carl Jacobs about ole’ man Baird, and I’m hoping to be able to discuss it with Jesse, before we leave. How about it, David? Is Jesse up to talking about this yet?”

David hesitated a moment, instantly feeling protective of his patient. “Another couple of days, would be better,” he admitted. “Can’t it wait?”

“I don’t have another couple of days,” Steven replied. “And personally, the sooner we get this settled, the better, as far as I can tell.”

“And knowin’ Jesse,” Jed added. “I think he would be more upset about being left out of the loop, than he would about the incident itself. He don’t like not knowin’ what’s goin’ on.”

“That’s the truth,” Beth agreed, and Bridget nodded with support of that. “He’ll be mad, if he isn’t told about it soon.”

“And I wouldn’t be surprised if he already suspects something,” Steven added. “He gave you a bit of a strange look, last night, Bridget. I think he might have seen the bruising.”

“Oh no,” Bridget groaned. “I thought I had it covered up completely.”

“I noticed it,” Steven reminded her. “I think it’s a safe bet, that your father noticed it, too.”

David sighed. “If that’s the truth, then the better we tell him the truth of it, the better. The last thing I need is a patient, fretting over unanswered questions.”

“Fortunately, we can leave that to you folks,” Lom said. “Martha and I are going to spend the day together, before catching the train this evening.”

Kenny agreed. “I’ll be relaxing in our hotel room. I’m still not feeling up to snuff, so a quiet day will be appreciated. But don’t worry, Jed. As soon as I get back to Laramie, I’ll send out some feelers on that Mr. Finney, and see what I can find out about him.”

“Dammit!!” The expletive came out of Jed like a gun shot. Everyone at the table jumped and attention was instantly focused on him. “I forgot all about Mr. Finney!” Jed explained. “Dammit! I wanted to ask Heyes about him, and when you two went down to Yuma, that would have been the perfect time to get a message to him. How could I have forgotten about that?”

“It’s been a busy couple of weeks, Jed,” Steven pointed out. “We all had other things on our minds.”

“Yeah, I know. But still…”

“You didn’t want to bother Heyes about this until after I’d checked him out, anyway,” Kenny reminded him. “Can’t you get in touch with him later on?”

“Yeah,” Jed admitted. “But that poker game is gonna start soon. Heyes needs to accept his invitation, if we’re gonna go through with this. Now, I don’t even know where he is.”

“You know he’s going to be in Red Rock, Texas, eventually,” Lom pointed out. “Send a telegram there, have him get in touch with you when they arrive. I doubt Warden Reece will have the information for you before then, anyway.”

“No, not likely,” Kenny agreed. “You still have time, Jed. You haven’t missed it.”

“And once we get back to Denver,” Steven offered. “I can track this Finney character down, let him know that you’re on to it, and that you’ll be in touch.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “That would work. I do have the hotel where he’s stayin’. Yeah, that would work.”

“Good,” Steven replied.

“Yes,” Kenny seconded. “That’ll work.”

“And in the mean time,” Steven added. “we’ll have a talk with Jesse, and decided what we’re going to do about that situation.”

“Great,” David mumbled.

Beth and Bridget exchanged glances. Neither of them were looking forward to that discussion.

Xxx

“Bridget, why didn’t you tell me?” Jesse asked accusingly, from the confines of his pillows and blankets. “For that matter, why didn’t any of you tell me?”

“That was my doing,” David admitted, before anyone else could take responsibility. “You weren’t strong enough for news like this, and I wanted you to rest. As far as I’m concerned, you still shouldn’t be hearing about it. But I’m afraid, that now the wedding is done, and Isabelle is out of town, this does need to be dealt with.”

“I’ll say it needs to be dealt with!” Jesse snapped, his anger rising quickly, along with his frustration. “Why isn’t Baird in jail?”

“Papa, please understand,” Bridget said, and put her hand on his arm in an attempt to sooth him. “We didn’t want to ruin Isabelle’s wedding day. She’s had enough misery from that man, without adding that to it.”

“I’m not even sure if there’s grounds for an arrest,” Sheriff Jacobs stated. “You might just be wasting your money, pressing charges against him.”

“No grounds!?” Jesse growled. “He struck my daughter! Not to mention, his own!”

“I know,” Jacobs agreed. “But it’s not against the law for a man to discipline his own family. As for him striking Bridget, she deliberately got in harm’s way. A lawyer could argue, that Baird hit her by accident, and that it was her own fault for getting involved in a family dispute.”

“I’m sure Steven will be able to shoot that argument into the ground,” Jesse countered.

“I’m personally involved in this dispute, Jesse,” Steven informed him. “We would have to hire another lawyer to prosecute. And that could get expensive.”

“I don’t care,” Jesse said. “I’ll find the money.”

All eyes turned to the sheriff.

Jacobs sighed. “Alright,” he conceded. “I take it both of you want to press charges?”

“Yes,” Jesse stated.

“Yes,” Steven repeated. “Even if Baird only gets a slap on the wrist, it will cost him dearly to defend himself, so either way, he’ll be hit hard for his actions.”

Jacobs nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll head out to his ranch and bring him in. I suggest you two find yourselves a lawyer, and we’ll get this on the roll.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Steven commented, with a smile. “I just happen to know a number of people in that profession.”

“Ha!” Jacobs laughed. “I’m sure you do.”

Steven and Jacobs left the room in order to get the wheels turning, while Bridget and David stayed behind for a moment longer with the patient.

“I’m sorry, Papa,” Bridget told him. “With everything else we have to deal with right now, you didn’t need this, as well.”

“It’s not your fault, Sweetheart,” Jesse assured her. “That man has had this coming for a long time. When he was keeping it in his family, there wasn’t much the law could do about it, but he’s stepped over the line now.” Bridget bite her lower lip, obviously feeling some concern. “What is it, Sweetheart? What are you worried about?”

Bridget looked to David and then back to her father. “I just don’t want it turning into another vigilante thing, like we had before.” Her throat tightened up, and she nearly choked on her next words. “Beth almost died, and Miranda too. All because somebody wanted revenge. The last thing I want is for anybody to get hurt over this. I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Baird, or his two sons, to cause trouble. Thank goodness they didn’t show up in town for the wedding!”

“Yeah,” Jesse nodded. “That could have been a real mess. But you can’t let fear control your convictions. You can’t allow people to get away with behaving like that, or there is no law. Then, men like the Bairds, will take over, and fear and violence will rule. You have to stand up for what’s right, no matter what the outcome. Do you understand that?”

Bridget nodded. “Yes, I do,” she agreed. “But I still can’t help but be worried. I don’t think I could stand it, if someone came after you or Steven. It wouldn’t be worth losing either one of you.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Jesse assured her. “All three of those men are cowards. They’ll hit women, and sneak around in the shadows. But when confronted outright, they’ll crumble. There’s not a single backbone between them.”

“I hope you’re right,” Bridget said. “I just wish they would go away.”

“After all this, they might.”

“Alright,” David finally cut in on the conversation. “That’s enough talking. Your throat is beginning to protest. I’m a doctor; I can tell.”

Jesse smiled at the medical man and nodded. David was right, of course; his throat was still feeling raw, and his voice was becoming raspy.

“I am getting tired,” Jesse admitted. “Don’t think I’ll sleep any more, though.”

“You don’t have to sleep,” David told him. “Just rest, and stay quiet. Give your throat and lungs a chance to heal.”

“I’ll see you later, Papa,” Bridget assured him, and she leaned over and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

Jesse smiled. “I love you too, Sweetheart. Go and get your mother out of this house for awhile. She needs a day with her children, before everyone splits up and goes their separate ways again.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, Jesse,” David said, as he and Bridget moved towards the door. “Do you need anything?”

“Nope,” Jesse assured him, as he settled deeper into his pillows. “But I would appreciate being informed once Carl gets back here with that man in custody.”

David nodded. “I’ll let you know. Now rest!”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Xxx

Mid-afternoon was coming upon the town when Joe stepped out of the sheriff’s office to send a speculative glance towards the outskirts of town. Sheriff Jacobs should have been back by now, and Joe was starting to feel a slight pricking of concern.

His brow tightened with curiosity when he noticed the Robertsons, in their buckboard, coming back down the main street, towards him. There was something odd about it. The team was moving at a slow jog, and yet there was a sense of urgency surrounding the whole scene. Joe stepped down onto the street and approached Floyd Robertson, who was just bring the team to a halt. Joe glanced back to the bed of the wagon, where, for some reason, Mrs. Robertson was riding, rather than up on the seat, beside her husband.

“What’s the matter, Floyd?” Joe asked. “I thought you were on your last trip back to your ranch. Did you forget something?”

Floyd turned a pale face, and eyes filled with fear, towards the deputy. A chill ran through Joe. What was going on?

Floyd set the brake and stood up, to step back into the wagon bed. “Get the doc!” he demanded. “Sheriff Jacobs been shot. It’s bad—I donno if he’ll pull through. Hurry up! Get the doc!!”

 

To be Continued


	13. The Day After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl Jacobs is fighting for his life while the rest of the town struggles to make sense of the tragic event.   
> Miranda has a rather rude introduction to Texas, and sees as side to her husband that causes her some concern.

After the Wedding  
Brookswood, Colorado

Joe ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He was gasping for air, though not because of the exertion, but because of the terror that clutched at his heart. His brain was spinning; it couldn’t be! But it was! One look into the back of the Robertson’s wagon confirmed what Floyd had said. Jacobs was lying on his back, supported from the jolting of the wagon by sacks of flower and seeds. Helena Robertson was doing the best she could to staunch the bleeding from the bullet hole in the sheriff’s side. But blood still oozed from the wound, and despite her efforts, it spread out upon the boards of the wagon like a pool of crimson syrup.

Joe ran, blind to the people he bumped into, and not even aware of how he got to the Doc’s house, but only that he got there. He ran up the steps in two bounds, and burst in through the front door. Nobody was in the kitchen, and Joe felt more panic clutch at his heart.

“Hello!” he yelled out, his voice sounding high and shrill to his ears. “Please! Be home!”

A baby started to cry somewhere in the back of the house. Then Tricia poked her head out from the living room, down the hall, and was instantly alarmed.  
“Deputy. What’s wrong?”

“Where’s the Doc?” Joe gasped out. “Please, tell me he’s here!”

“He went over the hotel to check up on some of his patients,” Trish informed him. “I’m sure he’ll be back any…”

“No!” Joe practically wailed. “Gotta find him…now!”

Joe spun around and literally bumped into David, who had just come up the stairs behind him. David stepped back in surprise as Joe grabbed him, and practically pulled him into a bear hug.

“Oh Doc, thank goodness! Ya gotta come, now!”

“Hold on,” David tried to soothe him. “Calm down. What’s wrong?”

Joe gulped in a couple of deep breaths, and then struggled to get the words out, while still clinging to David’s shirt as though expecting him to disappear into thin air if the deputy let him go.

“It’s Sheriff Jacobs,” Joe practically sobbed. “He’s been shot up, bad. The Robertsons brought him into town in their wagon! C’mon! Ya gotta come, he’s real bad!”

Alarm hit David’s heart, but he kept his emotions from reaching his eyes, or his voice.

“Alright,” David said. “Give me a minute to get my medical bag.”

“Hurry!” Joe demanded, beside himself with the strangling worry.

But before David could enter the house, the sound of the buckboard and horses’ harnesses jingling caught their attention. David turned and jumped down the steps, just as Floyd pulled up his team in front of the doctor’s house.

David was up on a wheel, and over the side of the wagon in an instant. He knelt down beside the unconscious form of the sheriff and felt fear clutch at him, just as it had Joe. The floor of the wagon was sticky with blood, and Jacobs was cold and pale as his life slowly seeped out of him. David was vaguely aware of Helena crying beside him, as he removed the burlap cloth from the entry wound. Blood loss instantly intensified, and David was quick to replace the pressure on the wound. He did a quick check for an exit wound, but found none.

“David?” Tricia had come down to the wagon, and now gazed anxiously over the side of it.

Her husband turned to her, with real fear in his eyes. “Get the stretcher down here. Quickly,” he told her. “Is Merle still here?”

“I’m still here,” came Merle’s voice from the top of the steps. She was cuddling Eleanor, and Nathan was peeking around Merle’s skirts, very much aware of what was going on.

“I know you were planning on heading home after supper,” David said, “but I need you to stay and help watch the children.”

“Of course, David.”

“And would you please get that large soup pot filled with water, and keep it at the boil,” he asked her. “You’ll have to monitor it, replenish it as it needs, and keep it boiling. I’m sorry, but this could be a long night, for all of us.”

“That’s quite alright, David,” Merle assured him. “Carl is a fine man, and a good friend. I’ll help you in any way that I can.”

“Thank you.” The doctor then turned to the deputy. “Joe.”

Joe was staring at his boss, his fear radiating off him as he clutched at the edge of the wagon.

“Joe!”

“Yeah…what?”

“Go get John and Nancy,” David directed him. “I’m going to need them. Tell them what has happened. Tell them we’re going to be here a while.” 

Joe nodded. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

In an instant, Joe was gone and again, running for all he was worth for the Mullin residence.

David allowed himself an instant, to watch the young man run. “Yeah,” he repeated in a whisper to himself. “We’ll be here a while, or no time at all.” Then he came to himself, and looked to Floyd. “Help me get him into the house.”

Floyd looked scared to death, but he nodded. He jumped down from the seat, and coming around to the back of the wagon, he pulled down the tailgate, and climbed in. Helena began to slide things out of the way and then made sure that she was out of the way, herself.

Tricia showed up right on cue with the stretcher and slid it along the floor of the wagon. David grabbed his end of it and got it into position. That done, Floyd took hold of Jacobs’ legs, and David got under his shoulders, while Helena took over from David and kept pressure on the wound.

One quick motion had the sheriff on the stretcher and slowly and gently, he was pulled off the wagon. They all made their way carefully up the stairs, and with Tricia showing Floyd the way, they carried on down the hall, to David’s surgery. 

For the time being, they simply laid the stretcher on the examining table. Tricia continued to apply pressure to the wound, as David quickly checked his patient’s vital signs. He hurried around the Robertsons, who were looking at a loss, but not wanting to leave until they heard some news.

“Please,” David told them, as he snatched up his oxygen bellows. “If you could wait in the kitchen, I’ll be right out. Don’t leave; I need to speak with you.”

“Oh, alright,” Floyd agreed, and taking his wife’s arm, they both left the room.

David got the mask over Carl’s face and gently pumped the bellows in order to give him a extra dose of oxygen. Belle joined them, having realized very quickly that something serious was underway.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

“Belle!” David snatched at her presence. “I need your help!”

Belle hurried into the room. “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, her eyes instantly wide with worry. “What do you need?”

“Take over for Tricia, please,” David told her. “I need you to keep pressure on that wound, so that Trish can work the bellows.”

Belle rushed forward and took over that vital job from Tricia, and everyone changed positions. David sent back to checking Carl’s heart beat and pulse, then he lifted an eyelid and checked for dilation.

“Alright,” he said. “He’s stabilized for the moment. “Merle!”

Merle was instantly at the threshold. “Yes?”

“Take those utensils, and use the colander to get them into the boiling water. It’s vital that they be sterile.”

“Yes, of course,” Merle hurried forward and got to work, gathering together the tools and instruments, all of them in triplicates, that Tricia had laid out. she collected them up in one of many clean towels and carried them out to the kitchen, to be placed into a specially designed colander, and then set in the boiling water to sterilize.

“Here’s some more padding, Belle,” David offered her. “Keep pressure on it, and replace each pad as it becomes saturated.”

“I know, David,” Belle assured him. “Go. Do what you need to do. I’ll call you if I need help.”

“Yes, yes of course,” David responded. “I know; you know what you’re doing. Sorry.”

Still looking distracted, David left the surgery just as Tricia was heading back in. The Robertsons were standing by the kitchen table, holding onto each other’s hand, in an effort to calm each other’s nerves.

“What’s happening out there?” Jesse’s voice called from inside his room, but his enquiry was ignored.

“Thank you, Floyd, and Helena, for getting him in here so quickly,” David told them. “I’d ask you to give a report to the law, but I don’t think Deputy Morin is up to that right now. Perhaps you can come back in tomorrow and give your report then.”

“Yeah, of course, Dr. Gibson,” Floyd agreed, then he hesitated. “But…”

“What?”

“I think it might be important to tell the law what I know, as soon as possible,” he said. “They’re already getting away.”

“Who was it?” came Joe’s breathless voice, as he entered the house again. “Who was it that did this? Was it the Bairds?”

“We didn’t see them actually do it,” Floyd pointed out. “but…”

Joe’s face tightened with anger. “It was ole’ man Baird!”

“Joe! Wait!” David yelled at him. “Oh, John! Nancy! Thank goodness. Can you please wash your hands thoroughly, and get in here, and get him ready for surgery?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Oh dear.”

“What’s going on!” Jesse repeated. “Who’s been hurt!”

“Joe, wait!” David ran after Joe and grabbed him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t go off half-cocked. You know damn well what Jacobs would do in a situation like this. Keep your head! Get Floyd and Helena’s story, then get a posse together. Dammit! It might already be too late; it’s going to be dark in a couple of hours.”

“But they’re getting’ away!”

“You go after them like this, you’ll lose them in the dark, or get your head shot off,” David insisted. “Calm down, and start thinking. Is Lom Trevors still in town?”

“Ahh…yeah…I think so,” Joe tried to focus his mind. “They were gonna catch the train this evening.”

“Okay, good,” David said. “Go get him. Let him help you with this, Joe. If you don’t feel up to taking charge, then let him do it. You’re a good lawman, Joe, but you’re too close to this, and Trevors has been at it a lot longer than you. You understand me?”

“Yeah, Doc. I do.”

“Good. Now go and get him, and ask him to come to the sheriff’s office. You can get the story there, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah okay. That makes sense.”

Joe stumbled down the hallway, and disappeared out the front door. David turned to the Robertsons one more time.

“I’m sorry folks,” he said. “but I agree, the law needs to know about this right away. Do you mind staying in town a little longer, and telling Sheriff Trevors what you know about this? I realize evening is coming on. Hopefully you can still get home before dark.”

“That’s alright,” Floyd assured the doctor. “My team has driven that road in the dark more times than I can count. It’s not a problem. We’ll head over to the sheriff’s office right away.”

David nodded, a quick smile showing his appreciation. 

“What’s going on!?” Jesse yelled again, frustration at being ignored sounding loudly in his voice. “Somebody get me a damn wheelchair!”

David quickly poked his head into the guest room. “Carl Jacobs has been shot,” he explained quickly. “We think one of the Bairds did it.”

“Oh no.” Jesse paled. “Is it bad?”

“Yes.” And with that David disappeared.

He went to the sink and with soap, and the hottest water he could stand, he scrubbed his hands. Entering his surgery, he found that everyone had been doing their jobs. Jacobs had been slid off the stretcher, and onto the examining table, with very little disturbance to his condition. His clothes had been cut off, and excess blood washed away. Now he was covered with a white sheet with only his face and the injured area exposed. They were almost ready to begin.

Tricia had gone back out to get the sterilized utensils, and now she hurried past her husband a second time, as she brought them in and got them laid out upon David’s work station. She then took the bottle of carbolic acid and sprayed them all down to sterilize them even more. Next, she went around and sprayed everyone’s hands, including her husbands.

“Alright, Belle,” David said. “I’ll take over there.”

“Yes, alright.”

“If you would please let Tricia spray your hands.”

“Oh.” She held out her hands and let Tricia spray them.

Tricia then handed the bottle of carbolic acid to Belle and held out her own hands. “Now spray mine. Good. Now, if you would spray some of it on this clean cloth, and wipe down the bottle, then return it to me. Don’t let it touch anything else.”

“Good heavens,” Belle commented as she followed her instructions. “What’s all this for?”

“It’ll help to keep things clean,” Tricia explained briefly.

“Oh,” Belle accepted that, but noticed that John didn’t seem impressed with the precautions. She returned her attention to Tricia. “Is there anything else you would like me to do?”

“Oh, I would really appreciate it, if you could help Merle out,” Tricia told her. “We have to keep that water on the stove clean and boiling, and we have no idea how long this could take. Merle is quite willing to stay up all night, if we need her to, but it would make a big difference, if you and she could take turns. Would you mind?”

“Of course not!” Belle insisted. She glanced over at David and knew that he wasn’t paying her the least bit of attention; he was already gone. She nodded again at Trish, and quietly left the room.

David shut his eyes and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the difficult job ahead of him. The tiredness left his face, and the weariness vanished from his limbs. His mind became clear and focused and his nerves settled. He opened his eyes again and found the other three people in the room watching him, waiting for him to give the word. He smiled quietly, nodded and closed his mind upon the outside world.

Xxx

Carl Jacobs trotted his horse down the lane from the main road and entered Baird property. Nothing was amiss. The large, two storey farm house sat directly in front of him, and he noted, with a smirk, that the repairs that had needed tending to last spring, were still awaiting attention. The place could use a new coat of paint as well, but none of the residents seemed too concerned about maintaining their property.

To his left, the chicken coop looked like all the other chicken coops to be found on all the other farms and ranches in the area, except that the chicken wire had been dug up in one corner, and all the chickens were running loose around the yard. Surprising that Baird hadn’t lost them all to predators by this time, but winter was coming, and with the natural foliage, along with its rodent residents, depleted by the fire, it wasn’t too likely that any of those birds would make it until the following spring.  
To his right stood the barn with a large pole fence corral expanding from it. The three horses and a jenny mule inside the corral were busy munching their lunch hay, and aside from the usual cursory glance, they paid no attention to the newcomer. The barn, like the house, was large and sturdy, but was still in need of some repair. Carl wondered what the two sons did all day, if they couldn’t be bothered to help their father keep the place up.

The resident dog came charging out of the barn, barking loudly, and nipping at the sheriff’s horse. Fortunately, Ollie was accustomed to coming onto strange property, and being accosted by the farm dogs, so he barely swished a tail at the irritating canine. The barking did, however, get the attention of two of the Baird men, and ole’ man Baird, and his youngest son, Seth, came out onto the front porch. Jacobs took note of the rifle in Baird’s hands.

The sheriff rode up to the pair and dismounted.

“Afternoon, Mr. Baird,” he greeted the rancher. “Seth, how are you doing?”

“Fine,” came back the cautious response.

“What can we do for ya’, Sheriff?” Baird asked, in a tone that suggested he wasn’t really in a giving mood.

“Well,” Jacobs responded. “We’ve got ourselves a situation here. I’d appreciate it, if you’d put your rifle away, so we can talk about it, man to man.”

“Humph,” Baird grunted, but did turn around and lean his rifle up against the door jamb. “That good enough fer ya’?”

“Fine.”

“So, talk. What’s the situation?”

Jacobs sighed. “That little altercation in town a few days back,” he reminded the rancher. “Dammit, Baird. Most folks suspected, and some of us knew, that you were heavy-handed with your daughters. But, you kept it in the family, and you kept it at home, so there wasn’t too much we could do about it. But your behaviour in town, right out on the street, was taking things too far.”

Baird snorted and spit out to the side. “Crap,” he protested. “That little whore is my own flesh and blood, I’m free ta’ discipline my daughter any way I see fit. Good riddance to her is all I can say. She’s a tramp, just like her ma, and needs a strong hand to keep her in line. No crime against that.”

“That may be,” Jacobs grudgingly agreed. “But when you hit Bridget Granger, you stepped over the line. Dammit, Baird! What the hell were you thinking!? She the daughter of one of the most influential and respected members in this community, and not only that, she’s the wife of a criminal lawyer!! You must have known that this wasn’t going to be swept under the carpet!”

“Shit,” Baird cursed. “She got in the way. Just like the rest a’ her family; they like ta’ meddle in other people’s business. It’s her own fault she got hit. Tell her to keep her nose on her own pile next time!”

“Can’t do it,” Jacobs told him. “Jesse Jordan and Steven Granger aren’t going to let you get away with it this time. They’ve both lodged complaints against you. You’re being charged with assault. I’m gonna hav’ta take ya’ in.”

“Take me in,” Baird repeated with disgust. “I’m a busy man, I ain’t got no time to be sittin’ around in a jail cell, just fer keepin’ my own kin in line.”

“I’m sure your boys can get bail together for you,” Jacobs said. “You’ll be back out by morning.”

“Bail!?” Baird groused. “We can’t afford to be wastin’ money on that. We ain’t rich, not like some folks.”

“You’ll get it back again,” Jacobs assured him. “Unless, of course, you’re planning on running.”

“It don’t matter,” Baird stated. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you. Now get off my property!” And he started to turn, to retrieve his rifle.

Jacobs’ revolver was in his hand in a flash. “Don’t touch that rifle, Baird, or I swear, I’ll shoot you where you stand. You too, Seth! Stand easy. I didn’t want it to go down this way, but you’ve given me no choice. You’re under arrest. I’m taking you in. Where’s Emmitt?”

The pistol shot came out of the blue from an upstairs window. Jacobs barely had time to realize that he’d been hit, before the pain attacked his gut, and he sank to the ground, in an agonizing heap. He was vaguely aware of sudden commotion around him as the dog started barking again. Another shot rang out and he sensed his own horse jumping forward, and then he felt a hoof strike his head as the animal pivoted and took off at a gallop. Then his senses began to spin, and blackness took over his mind.

Xxx

Floyd and Helena Robertson were driving their buckboard along the main road, towards home. They’d had to make two trips into town that day, in order to collect all the items they had left in town for the wedding and reception. It had been worth it though. They had been willing to help out to make the wedding day a success. Too many bad things had happened in the last ten days, and it was time for the town to have some fun.

Once the few remaining items were on board, they headed the team for home once more. It was a pleasant day, and the couple were talking and joking quietly together, as the horses trotted along at their usual ground covering gait. But as they were approaching the turnoff to the Baird property, they heard men yelling, somewhere ahead of them, and off to the right. Floyd felt a certain amount of anxiety, and pulled his team to a halt.

“What’s going on?” Helena asked, suddenly feeling the need to whisper. “That sounds like it’s coming from the Baird’s place.”

Floyd nodded. “Yeah. It sounds angry too. Or scared. Best we hang out here for a minute. I don’t trust those Bairds worth nothin’.”

Helena nodded agreement, and they sat, Floyd keeping his team quiet, as the yelling continued, and was joined by a horse neighing, and, oddly enough, the mule letting out a string of loud braying.

The couple on the buckboard exchanged glances. The Bairds’ mule hardly ever sounded off, but today he was making up for lost time. Floyd made contact with his team, and slowly began to ease them back, out of the center of the road to where they would be partially hidden by a copse of trees. 

He had just gotten the team settled again, when the sound of galloping hooves was added to the previous chorus of verbal conflict, and the Baird men came into view. They were all galloping full speed, up their lane, and when they got to the main road, they didn’t even slow down nor so much as glance to the left. If they had, they might have noticed that their slapped together plan to vacate their property, was being witnessed by the couple who lived down the lane. But they didn’t look, and each of them made a sudden right turn onto the main road that would lead them away from town. Their saddle horses were fully loaded, and they had their mule with them, loaded to the gills with supplies.

Floyd and his wife sat and watched the great escape, concern and confusion etched over their expressions.

“What was that all about?” Floyd commented. “I don’t think I’ve every seen any of them fellas in a hurry to get anywhere, let alone all three of ‘em at one time.”

Helena pulled her wrap closer around herself, even though the afternoon was quite pleasant. “I don’t feel right about this,” she commented. “I don’t know why, but I thank the Lord that they didn’t see us.”

Floyd looked over to his wife, and thought about her words. Helena often sensed things that went right over his head, and he’d learned to listen to her concerns. He felt a chill go through him, and this time, he was in complete agreement with her. Something was not right.

“Maybe we should go and check it out,” he suggested. “It don’t look like anyone’s at home.”

They looked at each other, and Helena’s eyes were filled with concern, but she nodded. Something was wrong.

Floyd clucked to the team, and they, anticipating home and supper, picked up the trot and set out at a steady pace. Imagine their disappointment when the lines suddenly directed them to make a side trip, onto a strange property. Head tossing and tail swishing ensued, but the obedient team did as they were told, and trotted down the lane, towards the tired looking ranch house.

“Damn!” Floyd cursed as he pulled the team to a halt. “Is that a man on the ground? What in the world has gone on here?”

The ranch dog peeked out from the safety of the barn door, but made no effort to challenge the strangers who had come into his yard. The previous events had taken the heart out of him, and he was looking for someone to come and assure him that all would be fine. But no one was paying any attention to him, and he tucked his tail and skulked towards the back of the barn, to hide in the loose straw and await his masters’ homecoming.

Floyd and Helena only saw the man sprawled upon the ground, a pool of dark blood creating a sticky stain of red around his torso.

The couple climbed down off the wagon and ran to the prone man. 

“It’s Sheriff Jacobs,” Floyd announced. “Why would the Bairds shoot Sheriff Jacobs?”

“Goodness knows,” Helena answered. “But we must get him into town.”

Floyd looked back at their wagon. “Well, we can rearrange the gear in the back, and make kind of a bed for him. We can use the sacks of feed to keep him from rollin’ all over the place. I hope we don’t just make things worse, but you’re right; we gotta get him in to the doc’s.”

Xxx

“And that’s all you saw?” Lom asked the older couple.

“Yessir,” Floyd confirmed. “Them three Baird men were ridin’ hell bent, and then we checked out their yard, and we saw why.”

“We got Sheriff Jacobs into the wagon as best we could,” Helena stated. “I hope we didn’t cause more damage by moving him, but we didn’t see any other way to get him into town.”

“Yes ma’am,” Lom answered her. “You did fine. He’s in good hands now.”

Helena smiled with relief. “Thank you. I certainly hope you’re right. Dr. Gibson seems to be a good sort.” She gave her husband a consolatory pat on the knee. “Despite what happened in the past.”

“I don’t hold Dr. Gibson responsible for what happened to Wendy and Caleb,” Floyd assured everyone there. “He did the best he could. Sometimes things just don’t work out the way you want them to.”

“There’s a lot of truth in that,” Lom agreed, even though he didn’t know who Wendy and Caleb were. “Okay,” he began, after a deep sigh. “Even though we don’t know which of them pulled the trigger, it’s obvious they’re all on the run, and we have to track them down.”

“Yes!” Joe agreed. “And the sooner the better!”

Lom sent him a look, warning him to be quiet. “It’s too late to do anything now…”

“What do you mean!?” Joe interrupted him. “We gotta get after them!”

“Not now!” Lom snarked at him. “It’s going to be dark soon, and by the time we get a posse together, it’ll be well into night. So we get organized now, and be ready to move out first thing in the morning. I only want able-bodied men in this posse, so, Sam, if he’s willing. Joe, you’ll stay here.”

“What!” Joe protested. “I want to come. I’m able-bodied!”

“You’re also the senior lawman in this town, now,” Lom pointed out. “You’re needed here. It’s very likely we won’t catch these fellas, so sending out telegrams to the surrounding towns is going to be vital. That’ll be your job, Joe. Keep the surrounding towns aware of what’s going on, so we can draw a net around these guys.” Joe sulked, but he accepted the dictate from the older, more experienced lawman. “So,” Lom continued. “I can use Wheat, and Ames, but not Kyle, for obvious reasons. Reece is out, for the same reasons. Steven, maybe. Do you want to go, Steven?”

“Not really my thing, Sheriff,” Steven admitted. “I’ll help on the legal side, but riding out in a posse isn’t what I trained for.”

“That’s what I thought,” Lom agreed. “And that’s fine. We all got our parts to play. Floyd, if you want to come with us, you’re welcome.”

“Yessir, Sheriff,” Floyd nodded. “I would like to come.”

“But Floyd…” Helena protested, squeezing her husband’s arm.

“It’s alright,” Floyd assured her. “Like the sheriff says, we probably won’t even catch up to ‘em. It’ll be more of an information gathering excursion. Ain’t that right, Sheriff?”

“Yeah, okay,” Lom agreed dubiously, as even he didn’t know what way this was going to go. “We’ll meet at the livery tomorrow morning, an hour before dawn. We can at least get that far without having to see the tracks. We get as far as Bear Creek Road before the light comes, then we’ll have gotten a good start. Have fresh horses with you, with enough supplies for a few days of camping out. If ya’ think of any other fellas who are able, and want to come, pass the word on to them. The more men, the better. If we ain’t come across ‘em in three days, we’ll leave ‘em to the next county to pick up. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Jed said. “What about me?”

“You’re still recoverin’ from the fire,” Lom told him. “You’re not comin’.”

“I’m fine!” Jed insisted. “Jacobs is a friend of mine, I want to come. You’re takin’ Wheat, and he’s worse than I am!”

“Wheat’s condition is chronic, he ain’t likely to get better, and this excursion ain’t gonna make ‘im worse,” Lom pointed out. “Your lungs will get better so long as you rest ‘em. You’re not fine, Kid, and you’re not comin’!” Lom reiterated. “Besides, you got that new job with Heyes to get organized. Don’t you think you should be focused on that?”

“This is more important, Lom!”

“And we’ll handle it!” Lom shot back. “You’re not comin’, Kid. You’re still not breathin’ right, and you’ll slow us down.” Lom noticed the stricken look that crossed the Kid’s face, and he softened his tone. “Besides, I don’t want to leave the town wide open. From what I’ve heard and seen myself, those Bairds are capable of just about anything. They might take exception to being run off their place, even though it was their own doing. You and Joe work well together, and I want you both here just in case those fellas come back to cause trouble.”

“Yeah, alright,” Jed grudging agreed. He had to admit, that his lungs did still burn whenever he exerted himself, even just a little. Lom was probably right.

Everyone jumped as the door to the sheriff’s office banged open, and Eric Schulmeyer made an obtrusive entrance.

“I doubt that any of you is all that interested,” he stated imperiously. “But Jacobs’ horse just showed up at my livery door about half an hour ago. If any of you was to ask, a bullet took a strip a’ meat off ‘a his shoulder, but other than that, he’s fine!”

The door slammed shut, and Schulmeyer could be heard trudging down the steps and uttering curses to himself as he went. The occupants of the office sat in stunned silence, and stared at one another.

“Well, that’s a load off,” Jed finally commented.

Xxx

“Alright, everyone,” David announced. “Tricia has put out face masks, I want us all to wear them throughout the surgery.”

John frowned. “That won’t be very comfortable,” he commented. “Sometimes I think that you take this anti-germ thing a little too far, but, you’re the boss. And, I must admit, most of your crazy ideas do end up making sense in the end.”

David glanced at Nancy, who was sitting at the head of the table. She had one of the air bellows with a face mask next to her and a bottle of chloroform ready, as needs be, to drip more of the liquid onto the cloth that was lightly placed over the sheriff’s nose and mouth. Even though he was already unconscious, it was vital that he stayed that way throughout the surgery, or the shock alone would kill him. She nodded at David, indicating that Jacobs was safely under the anesthetic and it was time to begin. 

As soon as he removed the pressure padding from the wound, Tricia was there beside him, with the carbolic acid, thoroughly spraying the area down. Then she took over swabbing at the wound in an effort to keep the blood from obscuring David’s view.

A quick examination showed him that the bullet had entered just under the floating rib on the right side of the torso. From the angle of it, he knew that it had then traveled downwards and back and was most likely resting up against the spine. He sighed inwardly, knowing that this was a very serious injury, and many of the vital organs could have been damaged by the bullet’s trajectory. 

“Scalpel,” he requested, and John passed it to him instantly.

Another deep sigh from David, and he made an incision that widened the existing hole and laid open a small section of the intestinal area. Trish sprayed, and swabbed at the blood. David put aside the scalpel and very slowly, and carefully, pushed his talented fingers into the wound.

Despite Tricia’s vigilance, blood seeped everywhere and David couldn’t see what was going on inside the wound, but he could feel it. He had an open tunnel left behind by the bullet, and by pushing his fingers in as deeply as they could go, David hoped he would feel the bullet. Luck was not with him on this evening though, and within seconds, David gave up the effort and withdrew from the bloody hole.

“Forceps,” he requested, and instantly John had placed the instrument into his hand.

Gently pushing the end of the forceps into the opening, David continued the downward penetration. He moved quickly, but was ever vigilant to any change in the pressure of the flesh which could indicate bone fragments or shrapnel from the bullet. He found no resistance, but the deeper he delved into the wound, the more concerned he became. The forceps were coming dangerously close to the spine and David had the sinking feeling that this venture was not going to be successful.

He pushed in a little bit further, gently moving the end of the utensil around inside the wound, hoping he would feel it come up against the hard object. Eventually, he gave it up as a lost cause and retracted the forceps.

“It’s too close to the spine,” he explained with regret. “We don’t have time to dig deeper for it, and even if I could find it, I might not be able to safely remove it.”

David dropped the bloody forceps onto the tray and waited while Tricia swabbed the open wound of as much blood as she could. 

“Okay,” David said, with a sigh. “Let’s get in there and stop this bleeding. How is he doing?” He asked Nancy.

Nancy, who had been carefully monitoring the patients coloring, heart rate and breathing, met David’s eye and nodded. “He’s weak, but steady.”

“Good. John…oh, thank you.”

John already had the suturing needle threaded and ready to go, and the team went to work.

Xxx

Word about the shooting had spread quickly through the town and a dark somberness, made even more stark by the previous day’s joviality, lie like a thick blanket over the citizens. The streets were practically deserted as most people retreated to their homes or found solace amongst their fellows at the saloon.

Wheat, Kyle and Ames sat at one of the round tables, staring into their beers as though the answer to the world’s most puzzling questions could be found in the amber liquid. The mood in the entire establishment was somber. There was no tinny piano music going, or intense poker games keeping players occupied. Everyone was quietly speaking between themselves and speculating about what the morning might bring.

“Damn,” Wheat grumbled. “I never thought I’d be feelin’ edgy over some lawman gettin’ shot. We should’a high tailed it outa this town as soon as that weddin’ was over. Now we’re caught up in this thing, for sure.”

“What do ya’ mean, Wheat?” Kyle asked him. “Don’t ya’ wanna be in the posse?”

Wheat snorted into his beer. “Posse! That’s another thing I never thought I’d be a doin’. Ridin in a posse—that ain’t natural.”

“But we was kind’a in a posse when we took Devil’s Hole,” Kyle pointed out, and he grinned. “It felt good to be part of a gang again. Even if we was on the law side."

“That ain’t the same thing,” Wheat insisted. “We were clearing out a nest of rats who’d taken over our home and our good name. Just ‘cause the law wanted to help us out, don’t mean we was ridin’ with ‘em.”

Kyle looked confused, not quite getting the subtleties that his partner was talking about.

“I’m goin’,” Ames announced. “Sheriff Jacobs ain’t been nothin’ but good ta’ me.”

“Yeah, Wheat,” Kyle seconded. “He’s been willin’ ta’ help us get turned around. He’s helpin’ out Heyes and the Kid too. I’m kinda wishin’ that I could go with ya’ in the morning. We could probably help them fellas out a lot, seein’ as how we already know how outlaws think, an’ all.”

“Shoot,” Wheat snarked. “I wouldn’t sully the outlawin’ profession by includin’ the Bairds into our ranks. They’re just stupid; mean and stupid. I’d a run them outa Devil’s Hole faster than a grizzly at a wolf kill. I just don’t see why we oughta be dragged into this thing. It ain’t our business.”

Ames looked incensed at his mentor’s callousness. “But Wheat…”

Kyle gave him a quick kick under the table, and Ames snapped his eyes over to meet those ice blue orbs staring at him. Kyle shook his head, letting the lad know to keep his mouth shut. What Ames hadn’t noticed was how Wheat was constantly chewing on his lower lip and that he’d yet to take his brown eyes off the contents of his beer glass.  
The conversation at the table sank into a moody silence.

Xxx

Bridget sat on the bed in their hotel room tears steaming down her face, as she blew her nose with a hanky. Her eyes were red, and her complexion blotchy with the grief and continuous crying that had preceded the devastating news.

Steven was doing everything he knew how to do, to console his wife.

“Get away from me!” she snapped at him, when he attempted to put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m so angry with you!”

“Me?” Steven asked, feeling hurt. “What did I do?”

“You and Papa!” Bridget wailed. “Insisting that you had to do the right thing! Had to make them face the consequences! Why couldn’t you have just let it go!?”

“But he hit you!” Steven reasoned, as he stood up and began to pace. “We couldn’t let him get away with that.”

“Why not?” Bridget demanded. “This town has been letting him get away with hitting his daughters for years! What made this situation any different?”

“Isabelle and Courtney are his daughters and that’s the difference,” Steven explained. “Legally, he has that right. But he doesn’t have the right to hit you. We were trying to help both of you.”

“Help us!?” Bridget yelled at him. “You were helping your own egos! Neither you or Papa did anything when he was hitting Isabelle and Courtney, but how dare he hit me! You’re both so concerned about people hurting you or yours, yet you don’t give a damn about anybody else! ‘It’s the right thing to do’, Papa said! ‘He can’t get away with this!’ Papa said.”

“And he’s right!” Steven countered. “People like that can’t be allowed to get away with that. Where would this country be, if people were permitted to get away with treating others like that?”

“Is it worth a good man’s life!?”

Steven stopped pacing, and sat down again, beside his wife. “We couldn’t know that this was going to happen,” Steven reasoned quietly.

“I knew!” Bridget pointed out. “I told both you and Papa, not to do this! It wasn’t worth it! After all we have just gone through with that awful vendetta against Hannibal! People died! Beth lost her baby! Miranda very nearly lost her life—and for what!? Revenge! Getting even? Getting back for some injustice? Is a person’s life so invaluable that it’s worth losing it to prove a point!?”

“It’s not just to prove a point!” Steven countered. “It’s to make this a safe and productive country to live in. We can’t allow people like the Bairds to run rampant, and to get away with doing whatever they want to. Don’t you see? People like that, if they’re allowed to get away with behavior like this, then they’ll think they’re above the law. That they can continue doing whatever they want. And that’s when democracy dies.”

“Is it worth a man’s life?” Bridget sobbed.

Steven sighed and hung his head. “David’s an excellent doctor,” he said, yet even he found little comfort in the words. “He’ll get Jacobs through this. You’ll see.”

Bridget sobbed again and blew her nose into the hanky.

Steven took the chance of rejection and snuggled up closer to her, and finding no resistance, he gently put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Jacobs knew the risks of his job, and he accepted them. People like the Bairds have to be brought to heel, or they’ll run rampant over the county. Jacobs knows that. So does your Papa.”

“Papa!” Bridget spat out, though she didn’t retreat from her husband’s embrace. “Birds of a feather, you are. It’s all about being right, with you two.”

Steven wisely remained quiet and simply held his wife as her sobs took over her body. He rocked her against him, and held her tightly until the sobbing quieted down again. 

“Well,” he finally commented. “I can’t think of a better complement than to be favourably compared with your father. Did it ever occur to you, that that is why you married me?”

Bridget sniffed and leaned in against her husband’s comforting shoulder.

Steven kissed her forehead. “You’ll see,” he said. “Things will look a lot better in the morning.”

Bridget sighed as her tears subsided. “Why do you and Papa always have to be right all the time?”

Xxx

David felt as though he was racing against time, but he also knew that he had to move slowly and cautiously or risk causing even more damage than what already existed. He and John, who worked across from him, were constantly clamping off bleeding blood vessels and stitching them closed, only to discover five more tears that were slowly leaking the life fluid from the body.

Tricia was kept busy swabbing and making sure that David had as clear a view as possible, as he worked his way deeper and deeper into the wound. It didn’t take long for the floor of the surgery to be covered with blood-saturated swabs, and everyone’s hands and aprons were smeared with the red stains of the sticky liquid. 

“Damn,” David cursed quietly as he took a closer look at the liver. “Give me those small tweezers.”

John handed the tool over, and David inserted the small end of it into the wound. He squinted, trying to see the minute details.

“Tricia, swab.”

Tricia quickly dabbed at the area, removing more blood so her husband could work.

“There’s bone chips embedded in the liver,” David murmured. “The bullet must have scraped along the floating rib and took some of the bone with it. They’re so small, I didn’t see it when I first went in.”

“You were searching for the bullet,” Tricia reminded him. “How could you have seen them?”

David shook his head but made no further comment, as he focused on getting a pinch hold with the small tweezers.

“There,” he finally announced. “I got one.”

Pulling the tweezers out, a small tinge of white showed through the blood, indicating the tiny bone splinter that was being held firmly between the pincers. David dropped the piece into the dish, and went back for another one.

“Damn,” he cursed again as he saw a small bead of black blood ooze its way out of the tiny pin prick that the splinter had left behind. “Quickly Trich, clear that away. John, needle.”

It was done in an instant, the small puncture closed with one quick stitch and no more blood came through. But there were more similar chips all along the side of the liver, some small and quickly sutured, but two others were almost an eighth of an inch wide, and one of them was half an inch long. These bled more profusely once the bone plugs were removed and David worried about the damage done to the vital organ. 

Xxx

Over in the Heyes household, the children were all settled into their beds for the night. The adults, on the other hand, were up and wide awake, worry keeping sleep at bay even though there was nothing they could do to help the situation.

Jed, Beth, Sam and Maribelle all sat around the kitchen table, drinking tea or coffee, depending on their preference. Whatever talking there was, had fizzled out some time ago, so now they sat, giving support to one another simply through being there.

A quiet knocking came to the front door, and everyone jumped as the sound broke through the silence, and edgy nerves over-reacted. Then eyes filled with hope made the rounds of the table as Jed slid back his chair to go and open the door. It was Joe.

“Any word?” Jed asked as Joe stepped into the room.

“No,” Joe admitted, and everyone’s hopes sank again. “I’m going nuts, over there in the office. Do you mind if I sit with your folks for a while?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jed told him.

“Oh, of course, Joe,” Beth assured him. “We didn’t even think. Come in. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yeah,” Joe accepted, as he sat down at the table. “That would be nice.”

“Pansy’s gone home, I take it?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Joe concurred. “She wanted to stay with me for the night, but of course, that wouldn’t be appropriate. I walked her home and then I just couldn’t bring myself to go back to that office and sit there all night by myself. I’m sure not gonna get any sleep. I saw the lights on here, so I hoped you folks wouldn’t mind…”

“Of course not!” Maribelle insisted. “I don’t think any of us are going to be sleeping tonight.”

“No,” Beth concurred. “But you fellas who are in the posse really should try and get some rest. It could be a long day tomorrow.”

“I can’t sleep,” Sam countered. “Besides, its only going to be a few more hours before we’ll have to start getting ready. Lom wants us going before dawn.”

Jed and Joe sat quietly, each lost in their own regrets at not being able to join in on the posse. They could both understand why Lom had excluded them, but that didn’t stop the burn for justice that griped at their hearts and made staying behind almost unbearable.

Beth gave her husband’s hand a squeeze. She could see the frustration in his face, but didn’t have a clue how to comfort him. Everyone wanted justice for this callous act but getting it was going to take time and they each had their jobs to do.

Xxx

In the darkness of her room and the warmth and comfort of her bed, along with Mouse cuddled in against her, Sally lay awake and pondered the previous day’s events. She couldn’t hear the quiet conversation of the adults, but she could see the light coming from the kitchen, and she knew that she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t find sleep on this night. She was aware that the town’s sheriff had been injured and was fighting for his life under the skilled hands of her Uncle David, but she could do nothing about that situation, and this was not what was keeping her awake.

She could see him in her mind’s eye; a blue tick dog, frightened and alone, hiding in the dark recesses of the old familiar barn. He was shaking, even though he was curled up in a snug nest of loose straw and hay. In fact, he’d been shaking all that day, ever since the loud gun shots and frantic violence had erupted in his barnyard. It’s not that he was afraid of gunshots; he’d been out hunting with his humans on more than one occasion and had always enjoyed it.

But this had been different. He knew that his humans could not always be trusted, and he had learned to disappear very quickly as soon as harsh voices took over the natural calmness of the yard. He had learned, even if they weren’t yelling at him, that he would be on the receiving end of a cuff across the face or a kick in the ribs, if he allowed himself to be caught within striking distance.

But this day, everything had started out innocently enough. He’d been a good dog and had done his duty when the visitor had entered into his domain. He had barked to alert his humans that they had company, and had put on a fine display of hackles and nipping to let the intruder know that he was on the job, so they better not try anything unsavory.  
Then the gunshots out of nowhere turned everything around. The dog knew that this wasn’t right and began frantically barking for real, but then that horse turned on him, and ran over him, in its blind panic to get away. The dog yelped, more in surprise than in injury, and scrambled to get out of the way of those deadly hooves. But then the chickens attacked him, squawking and flapping, feathers, and claws, and stinging wing slaps, raining down upon him as though all of this was his fault.

The smell of blood attacked his sensitive nose and he knew that it was the sacred blood of a human, and this was when he felt fear knot up in his gut. His own humans began to behave strangely, even for them; yelling at one another with accusations and fists flying. The dog ran to where he usually ran, when things got too crazy for him; into the barn and back to the darkest corner and into a nitch, where his humans couldn’t reach him.

There he stayed, trembling with fear as he listened to the sounds coming from the outside world. Even when his people hurried into the barn and quickly saddled up the anxious horses, he didn’t dare venture out of his hiding place. His ears pricked for an instant when the mule was pulled in and hastily packed up for a journey, as this often meant a hunting trip, and he always enjoyed those. But something told him that this time it was different. This time, he stayed hidden, and he trembled with the fear of being discovered and then dragged out and beaten for whatever crime he didn’t understand.

It didn’t happen. His humans weren’t even thinking about him. The wild activity was soon followed by a hasty departure, and the barnyard settled back into a quiet afternoon. Still the dog didn’t move. The smell human blood lingered out there, and though the chickens had calmed down, they were still anxious themselves and that was enough of a reason for him to stay put.

Then to make matters worse, he heard more horses and a wagon entering into his yard. His nose told him that it wasn’t his humans returning, and his sense of duty tugged at him to run out there and challenge whoever it was that was venturing into his domain, especially when nobody was at home. He forced himself to leave his hiding place, and tiptoed through the straw laden foyer towards the sunlight shining through the open barn doors. But much to his shame and guilt, the most he could muster himself to do, was poked his face out to see who had arrived. He saw the wagon and knew that he should run out and challenge the newcomers, but fear controlled him, and the only move he made was to turn tail and push deeper into his hiding place.

Sally didn’t know how she was going to do it, but she knew she had to find a way to get out to the Baird’s property and find the dog. He was already hungry and guiltily contemplating a chicken dinner, and Sally knew he would never forgive himself for such a violation, even if it became the desperate act of staving off starvation. He had to be rescued before he was forced to make such a choice. She was thankful that her Uncle Jed had brought Fanny into town with him the day before the wedding, and she knew that she would find a way, before she and her grandparents went back to the Double J; she would get out there and help the dog.

Xxx

Merle lost count of how many times she snatched up clamps and suturing needles that fell to the floor or simply became too clogged and coated with blood and tissue to be of use anymore. She’d hear her named called, and quickly and unobtrusively, she would enter the surgery, collect the soiled instruments, and transfer them to the large pot of boiling water on the stove. Once they’d been boiled for twenty minutes, she would fish them out and return them to the surgery to be used again. The contaminated water on the stove would be dumped away and fresh water put to the boil once again.

The nighttime hours were slipping by like minutes as John clamped, David stitched, Tricia swabbed and sprayed, and Nancy monitored the heart rate and the chloroform.

Four hours into it, Nancy quietly announced, “His pulse is dropping, he’s barely breathing.”

“Damn,” David cursed.

Everything came to a halt as David leaned over his patient and began pumping the heart.

“He’s bleeding faster now, David,” John announced. “Every time you pump at the heart, the blood flow increases.”

“I know!” David answered tersely, “but what good will it all do, if his heart stops?”

Nancy made sure the oxygen flow was steady as Tricia and John worked double time, trying to stem the blood loss, while David continued to coax the heart into beating on.

“Come on, Carl,” he whispered. “Don’t give up on us. Don’t let those bastards win this one. Come on!”

Finally, the heart beat picked up and stabilized, and with a sigh of relief, David came back to the injury. It seemed never-ending. The right kidney was badly damaged, almost beyond repair, and David had spent much of the time meticulously tweezing out bone fragments and stitching the tiny punctures closed, until the black blood had finally stopped. How functional it was going to be, was anyone’s guess. 

They worked on, tackling one obstacle at a time and trying not to think about how many more were to come. It was at times like this, when David wished there was some way to see where the bullet was, without actually having to dig for it. If he knew its exact location, he could have made a small insertion right there, and perhaps remove the projectile. But as it was, he dared not cause even more trauma in an effort to procure it. As he had already calculated, it probably wouldn’t be safe to remove anyway.

So they worked on, everyone ignoring their own exhaustion and praying that David’s skill and experience would be enough to pull their friend through this injury.

Xxx

Jesse lie in his bed, staring up at the ceiling that he could just barely make out by the dim light seeping in under the door. The morphine he’d been given had done its job at the beginning of this terrible night, and he had fallen asleep soon after the household had settled into emergency waiting. But sleep hadn’t lasted and within three hours of dozing off, he found himself wide awake and struggling with guilty demons of his own.

That empty hollowness in his gut, and the numbing fear that tingled down into his extremities were all reminiscent of the last time he had felt that forgiveness was not going to be his. Had he done it again? Pushed at the people around him to do the right thing without thought or concern of the possible consequences? When doing the right thing could lead to a man spending the rest of his life in prison, and another facing execution at the hands of a conniving lawyer and a fickle governor. When a good friend could die on the operating table, because Jesse Jordan had insisted that they all do the right thing. Was any of this worth it?

He remembered back to those two trials as though they had taken place a week ago, and yet, so much life had passed since that difficult time. But the feeling in the pit of his gut was oh so familiar, and it only got stronger as the nighttime hours dragged by. Was he never going to learn to let things be? What was this need in him to insist that other people live up to his standards and take responsibility for their past actions? What made him lord and master over all others before him? What made him supreme commander?  
And yet, what kind of country would this be, if people were allowed to get away with such barbaric behavior? He wasn’t so old that he couldn’t remember a time when violence and vigilantism ruled the territories. No one was safe, not even in their own homes, and people shouldn’t have to live like that. People who rode rough shod over others, doing what they wanted, taking what they wanted, had to be brought to bay. They had to face up to it, and be made to pay the price.

But what price do good people end up paying in order to bring the tyrants to justice? Would Merle agree that being left a widow, to raise her young son alone, was worth bringing Wyoming that little bit closer to civilization? The thieves who had murdered her husband had never even been caught, they’d never had to pay the price for what they had done. But Merle had paid it, and it had cost her dearly. Was it worth it?

Bridget didn’t think that it was, and she was the one who had been wronged. And Jesse had to admit, now that some time had passed, that she’d had a very strong point. He and Carl both, had suspected, if not actually known, that ole’ man Baird had a violent tendency. Why had they stood by and allowed the abusive treatment of the man’s daughters to carry on unhindered?

Isabelle had been living a life of fear and pain for years, without anyone challenging it. Was it so easy to turn a blind eye when it happened to someone who was not kin, simply because the law stated that a man could discipline his own family, any way he deemed fit? As long as he was discreet, and didn’t resort to actual murder, the beating of an errant wife or daughter was tolerated, even if not generally approved of.

Why was it only when Bridget became the victim, did Jesse suddenly take a stand? Steven had an excuse; he didn’t live in Brookswood and had no idea of that family’s situation, so when he discovered his own wife’s involvement in the confrontation, of course he wanted justice. Carl had known of the situation and had done all that he legally could do, to encourage Baird to back off of his behaviour. But it wasn’t until Baird had made the mistake of striking a woman who was not his kin, that Carl could do anything concrete.  
And Jesse had insisted that he do it, right then and there. Why? Bridget had tried to talk him out of it, insisting that it wasn’t worth causing even more strife in the town, but Jesse had ignored her. Now, he dreaded looking her in the eye again. He knew she was going to be angry with him. Even with Carl pulling through this, Jesse knew that Bridget would blame him and hold him responsible for whatever fate befell the sheriff.

The bitter taste of regret weighed heavy upon his tongue, and that same question from years ago invaded his brain and refused to leave. How could he face himself? How could he face his daughter, if Carl Jacobs dies?

Xxx

Finally, David’s persistence was beginning to pay off. The bleeding was slowing down and they were allowing themselves a glimmer of hope that they might be successful. He worked as quickly as he could, knowing that the strain on Jacobs’ heart would be wearing down his resistance. This had already taken longer than David was comfortable with, and Jacobs was not a young man. But he was strong and healthy, and David held onto that truth, as he willed his tired eyes to focus, and his aching fingers to keep working.

At 1:00 a.m., Nancy came out of the surgery in order to make some tea and have a break. She was surprised to fine Jesse out of bed, and sitting by the table with everyone else.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” she scolded him quietly. “Your injuries need more time to heal, before you start moving around.”

“I’m not moving around,” Jesse countered. “I’ve got so many pillows stuffed into this wheelchair with me, that I couldn’t move around, if I tried.”

Nancy still looked skeptical, and Jesse sent her a tired smile.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he informed her. “Believe me, I would have caused more damage by tossing and turning in that bed, than I could possibly do in my current predicament.” 

“Well,” Nancy pursed her lips as she headed over to the stove for tea. “I suppose none of us are going to be getting much sleep tonight.”

“Let me get that for you,” Belle offered as she put action to words and steered Nancy to a chair. “I think I could use a top up as well. Anyone else?”

Merle and Jesse both accepted the offer, and Belle brought the tea kettle over to replenish all the cups and then sat back down herself. She smiled at Nancy, though worry was heavy in her eyes. Everyone was wondering the same thing and yet, somehow, no one could find it in their hearts to ask. Nancy took a sip of the hot liquid, then looked around the table at the sets of eyes watching her.

“It’s looking better than it did,” she informed them, without having to hear the question. “We’re going to be in there with him for a while yet, but David insisted we all take turns to get some rest. Not that any of us can rest, with all this going on. David isn’t taking any rest; I don’t know why he thinks we should.”

No one had an answer for that, other than that David would not rest, until he collapsed, or until the job was done.

“What a terrible thing,” Merle whispered, and a small sob broke through her voice. “This is bringing back too many bad memories.”

Belle squeezed her hand. “I know,” she sympathized. “Carl is such a good man, just as I’m sure your husband was.”

A small tear sneaked out from the corner of Merle’s eye, and she nodded. “Yes, he was. Good, kind men, both of them. Just doing their jobs, and then things like this happen. It’s almost worse in this case. The Bairds have lived here forever; they knew Carl. How could they have done such a thing?”

“There’s no telling what some men will do, if they feel trapped,” Jesse commented. “But that’s no excuse. I think we are all well aware of a couple of other fellas who found themselves in a similar situation, more than once, and yet did not resort to such actions. The Bairds will pay for this, one way or another.” He sat silent for a moment, contemplating the fate of his friend. “I can’t remember a time when Carl wasn’t the sheriff here. I think he planned on retiring, next election.”

“Really?” Merle asked. “He never mentioned anything to me about that.”

“Well, he tended to be a private man.” Belle commented. “Perhaps he didn’t want to say anything until he was sure.”

“Yes, well.” Merle dropped her eyes. “We often had…conversations that delved into his private life… and, you know, his plans for the future.”

“Oh.”

They all sat in silence and sipped their tea. None of them had a response for that one.

 

At 3:30 a.m., Tricia took her turn for a break. She looked like a ghost of her former self; eyes sunken and red from exhaustion and stain and her expression worried. Without saying a word to anyone, she went down to the master bedroom and returned moments later, with Eleanor in her arms.

She sat down at the table, and Merle placed a cup of tea in front of her. Tricia barely acknowledged it. Ignoring the fact that Jesse was present, she opened her blouse with blood covered fingers, and attempted to nurse her baby. Eleanor was having none of it. Mother’s milk did not taste right, and the baby fussed and squirmed in reaction to the over-all mood of the household.

“Here, let me take her,” Merle finally offered. “She was quite happy with the formula for her last two feedings. No reason why she won’t take it now.”

Merle reached down and took the baby from her mother’s embrace, and it was only then, that Tricia took note that there was somebody—anybody else in the room.

“What?” she asked. “No, Merle, I can feed her.”

“No, you can’t,” Merle observed. “She knows there’s something wrong, and she’s fussing. I’ll feed her. Don’t you worry about it.”

“Oh. Alright.”

Merle settled herself at the table, and cooing at the fussing baby, she offered the infant the bottle filled with warm formula. Eleanor instantly latched onto it and began to suckle, small murmurings of contentment emanating from her throat as she nursed.

“There,” Merle said. “See? She’s fine. Drink your tea, Tricia.”

Tricia was watching her baby settled in another woman’s arms and felt a stirring of resentment that her baby would nurse for someone else, but not for her. But then her focus was directed to the tea cup, and she looked at it as though she had never seen it before.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I could use a nice cup of tea.” And picking it up, she drew in the perfumed aroma and took a sip. She closed her eyes and sighed with contentment.

“How is it going in there, Trish?” Belle finally dared to ask.

Tricia sighed again and looked from one person to the next. “It’s bad,” she admitted. “The bullet did a lot of damage, and the internal bleeding wouldn’t stop. As soon as David would get one tear clamped and stitched, two more became apparent. He’s not even going to try and get the bullet out. He suspects that it’s lodged up against the spine, and it would cause more damage than its worth to go after it. If Carl survives this at all, he’s likely going to be paralyzed. But David won’t give up. You know what he’s like with a patient. He’ll keep at it until he drops, or…”

Her throat caught on that, and she took another swallow of tea.

“Can’t John take over for a while?” Belle asked, gently.

“No,” Tricia answered, with a shake of her head. “His eyes aren’t good enough anymore, nor his hands steady enough. He’s doing a very good job at assisting, and understands everything that David is trying to do, so he’s right in there. But aside from taking over long enough for David to use the privy, there’s not too much else any of us can do.”

 

At 4:30, there came a quiet knock on the front door, and Belle rose to answer it. Jed and Joe were on the threshold, hoping for some answers.

“The posse is just gettin’ ready to head out,” Jed explained. “We saw the lights on and hoped that we could give them some good news before they left.”

Belle opened the door so they could step into the front hall.

“I’m afraid there’s no news yet,” Belle informed them.

“Not yet?” Joe asked in dismay. “It’s been hours.”

“I know,” Belle agreed. “But they’re still in there. I’m afraid we can’t tell you any more than that.”

“Well,” Jed stated. “At least he’s still alive. And that’s a good thing.”

“Yes, it is,” Belle responded. “We’ll let you know, when we do.”

“We can’t ask more than that,” Jed accepted. “Hey Jesse, good ta’ see ya’ up.”

Jesse nodded, but didn’t say anything.

“Would you boys like some tea?” Merle asked from the other side of the room.

“Ah, no thank you, ma’am,” Jed answered.

“No, thanks,” Joe seconded. “We better get back to the posse and help them get underway. We’ll be sure to give them the good news that the sheriff is still alive, though.”

“Alright,” Merle said. “We’ll see you boys later on today.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jed tipped his hat.

Joe nodded goodbye, and the two men left with hearts feeling heavier than when they had arrived, but with hope still burning.

Xxx

The livery stable was a somber place that morning. Even Eric was keeping his caustic remarks concerning the welfare of his horses down to a minimum. Adding to the dismal mood, the dark overcast morning not only blocked out the promised sunrise, but also carried with it the smell of rain and the soft nip of a chilly day to come.

Saddled horses were standing in the corridor, their restless hooves sending out hollow thumps as they stamped and shifted upon the wooden flooring. Condensed breath blew out from snorting nostrils, as the animals looked around them, taking in the activity of the group of men sharing the barn space with them.

More men, with horses in hand, were milling around outside the big barn doors, waiting for the chance to offer their services to the posse. Some came well prepared for a long chase, while others showed up armed only with a pitch fork and a bareback plow horse to show their support.

Lom viewed them from inside the barn where he had been getting one of Eric’s rental horses ready for the trail. Despite the fact that Eric was giving the lawman no end of advice on how he’d better treat the animal, Lom stood with his back to the old livery man, and sighing, allowing his shoulders to slump. Taking a deep breath and standing up to his full height, he walked away from the horse and approached the group of farmers, who were hoping for acceptance.

Eric stopped in mid-sentence and glared after the renter. “Where do ya’ think yer goin’?” he demanded to know. “I ain’t done yet!”

Lom ignored him, and Eric began grumbling under his breath as he turned to his horse. “Damn up-start,” he mumbled. “These high-falutin’ lawmen come sashayin’ in here, takin’ over my horses and can’t be bothered to take the time to know what’s best fer ‘em. It’s that damn fire all over; Jacobs comin’ in here and commanderin’ my horses like he…” The griping came to a sudden end, and Eric looked a bit sheepish, even though the only one listening to him was the horse. He gave the animal a pat on the neck and proceeded to do yet another check on its gear.

Outside, Lom stepped into the circle of light coming from the lanterns hanging off the barn entrance, and surveyed the group of men in front of him.

“Listen fellas,” he said, getting their attention. “I know you all want to come along and help out with this, but I really only can take those of you who are decked out for a hunting trip. I don’t know how long we’re gonna be out there. It could just be a couple ‘a hours, but it could be a couple ‘a days. And it looks like rain. So please, just you men who are geared up and ready for the trail. And if ya’ ain’t got a rifle and a handgun with ya’, both in good working order, then I can’t use ya’.”

More grumbling ensued from the herd of horses and riders that extended out beyond the glow from the lanterns. Lom had no idea how many men had been out there, but within moments of him finishing his speech, the numbers had dwindled down to a more reasonable size. 

Lom turned as he heard the hollow hoof steps coming up behind him, and Wheat and Ames, leading their horses, along with Jed, who was leading Lom’s, came out of the barn and joined the group that were waiting for them out front. Eric brought up the rear, still looking skeptical about what shape his animals were going to be in, once the group had returned.

“Okay, good,” Lom commented. “You fellas get over there, and everybody move up into the light.”

There was a bit of shuffling as men encouraged their horses to step forward, and Wheat and Ames joined in with them. Kyle stood out to the side, looking hard done by at not being able to go along. His regret was nothing compared with the Kid’s.

Lom walked over to every man in the posse, checking their horses and their gear, making sure all the animals were up to the pursuit, and then taking each man’s rifle and handgun and checking it for workability and ammunition. Once that inspection was completed, Lom took a close look at the small group of men standing with anticipation, before him.

He nodded at Wheat and Ames, and trusting that they were experienced enough to know what was needed, carried on down the ranks.

“Floyd,” he acknowledged the older rancher. “Glad you were able to make it.”

“You bet,” Floyd agreed.

Lom frowned at the next man. “What’s your name, son?”

Bernie shuffled his feet, not looking the lawman in the eye. “Bernie, sir.”

“Uh huh,” Lom responded, skeptically. “And how old are you?”

“Eighteen, sir.”

“Uh huh,” Lom commented again. “You sure about that?”

“Yessir. I always looked a bit young for my age.”

“Let ‘im go, Lom,” Jed interrupted. “He proved himself while fightin’ that fire, and then he lost his brother to boot. He’d be a good man ta’ have along.”

“Hmm,” Lom grumbled. “Well, alright. I don’t want ta’ hear any complainin’ from you though. This could turn out to be an uncomfortable trip.”

Bernie brightened up and smiled. “Yessir!” he agreed. “I mean, no sir. No complainin’ from me. You won’t be sorry you brung me along.”

“Uh huh.” Lom nodded and moved on. He stopped at the next man who was at least somewhat more mature than the previous one. “You look familiar. Don’t you run the mercantile?” 

“Yup, that’s me,” he concurred. “Clancy’s the name. Carl’s a good friend, so don’t even think about leaving me behind on this one.”

“Wouldn’t hear of it,” Lom assured him. “I need some level-headed men on this run. Sure wish Harker was here.”

“Who?” Clancy asked.

“My deputy, back home. Good man. I could use him right about now.”

“I’m sure we’ll get the job done,” Clancy commented, feeling just a bit slighted.

Lom nodded and moved on. “Sam. Are you sure the Jordans won’t need you out at the ranch?”

“They have Deke looking after the place, Sheriff,” Sam told him. “Another couple of days won’t make much difference. Besides, Jed’s here to help out.”

Lom glanced back at Jed, who grudgingly acknowledged the reference.

“Ya' got a point,” Lom agreed. “Good ta’ have ya’ along, Sam.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

Lom stopped at the next man and skeptically eyed his bandaged hand.

“Name’s Kurt Ferguson, Sheriff,” Kurt informed him without waiting for the acknowledgement. “Don’t you worry none about my hand, it ain’t nothin’. Just a little injury I sustained while fightin’ the fire. It won’t get in the way a’tall. Ain’t gonna stop me from shootin’ a gun, that’s fer sure.”

“Didn’t you damn near chop off your thumb with an ax?” Jed asked him.

Lom’s brows went up, and he sent an enquiring glare to the young man standing before him.

“No, no!” Kurt denied. “It’ ain’t nothin’. I done worse choppin’ up firewood for the stove. And let’s face it, Sheriff; with most fellas either really injured from that fire, or just plan wore out from fightin’ it, not to mention those too cowardly ta’ step forward here, you don’t have much options open to ya’. Sometimes ya’ just gotta take the best a’ what you can get.”

“He’s got a point there, Lom” Jed concurred. “I know of plenty of other fellas who’d be glad ta’ join ya’, but they're all laid up with some injury or another.”

“Well, alright,” Lom agreed, albeit reluctantly. “Okay men, let’s get goin’. We leave now, by the time we get past the Baird’s place, there’ll be just enough light ta’ start trackin’ ‘em. That is, if this rain holds off. We get rain comin’ down, that’ll put the kibosh on this whole thing.” 

“Then let’s get makin’ our own tracks,” Wheat announced. “I’ll be seein’ you fellas when we got them bastards trust up and ready fer a hangin’.”

“You tell ‘em, Wheat,” Kyle grinned, and would have given his partner a slap on the back, if his hands would have allowed it. “But don’t go doin’ nothin’ stupid.”

“I ain’t the one who does stupid things, Kyle,” Wheat snarked back, and then jutted his chin towards Ames. “Maybe he’s the one you should be worried about.”

“I won’t do nothin’ stupid,” Ames insisted as he mounted up. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“Trust ya’!” Wheat snarked. “After Kyle comes back all burned up, and you ain’t got a singe on ya? I’d still like ta’ know what…”

“Shuddup back there!” Lom shouted at them from the head of the posse. “Get yourselves organized and let’s go, or you’ll stay behind.”

“Damn,” Wheat grumbled. “Bein’ a lawman has really gone ta’ his head, ain’t it? I don’t recall ‘im bein’ that bossy when he was runnin’ on the fun side of the law.”

“Well, bein’ honest and law abidin’ changes a man, Wheat.” Jed reminded him.

“Yeah, don’t I know it.” Wheat agreed. “Sometimes I think I should’a just stayed dead.”

Lom trotted his horse out to the street, and the posse eagerly followed him.

“Best get goin’, Wheat,” Jed suggested. “Or you’re gonna get left behind.”

“Yeah, yeah,” came back the response as the ex-dead man brought his horse’s head around and quickly mounted up. “C’mon ya firebug, let’s go.”

Ames tipped his hat to Kyle, and then he joined up with Wheat, and the whole group disappeared into the darkness.

“Well, that’s that,” Jed commented. “Guess I’ll head over to Heyes’ place and see if Beth is ready for some breakfast. You wanna come?”

“Gee, Kid,” Kyle grinned, showing tobacco stained teeth, noticeable even in the dimmed light from the lanterns. “Isabelle’s sister is back in town. Good thing she weren’t at home when all this stuff went down. I thought I’d just sort’a poke around and see if she might be interested in some company, ya’ know what I mean?”

“Jeez, Kyle,” Jed sounded skeptical. “After everything that’s gone on with that family, you still tryin’ ta’ spark that woman?”

“Wull, why not?” Kyle asked innocently. “Just ‘cause her pa’s an abusive bastard, an’ her brothers ain’t much better, an’ her sister is a stuck-up, whinin’ thorn in the side, don’t mean that the older sister is gonna be the same way.”

“I donno,” Jed responded, suspiciously. “It seems awful suspicious to me, that Courtney decided to leave town to visit her ailin’ aunt just in time to miss the fire and her sister’s weddin’. Now her sister’s gone, and she shows up back home again. Though ya’ wouldn’t know it. She sure is keepin’ a low profile now, but I guess we can’t blame her for that. When you’re talkin’ about a close knit, lovin’ family, the Bairds sure ain’t it. You best watch yourself, Kyle. You just done got out ‘a one prison, so you sure don’t wanna go walkin’ into another one.”

Kyle’s grin dropped and his lower jaw kinked as he contemplated that possibility. “You sure do got a point there, Kid. Mabee I will join you and your missus fer breakfast.”

Xxx

At 6:45, Nathan and J.J. put in an appearance for breakfast.

“Porridge again?” Nathan whined. “That’s all we’ve been eating lately.”

“Don’t start, young man,” Merle cautioned him. “This morning is not the morning for complaints.”

Nathan spooned a helping of cereal into his mouth and looked over at the surgery door. He didn’t say anything, but he chewed on his lower lip and glanced around at the worried expression surrounding him. He knew what was going on.

J.J. continued to eat. “When are we going home, Mama?” he asked over a mouthful.

“Soon,” she told him, and the fact that she didn’t scold him for speaking with his mouth full was indicative of the worry she was feeling. “Your Papa is feeling better every day. As long as we can take the wheelchair with us, we may head home tomorrow. Poor Deke must be feeling overwhelmed with having to look after both our place, and Sam’s.”

“I’m certainly ready to be back in my own home, and my own bed,” Jesse agreed. “I think we’ll just be in the way here, anyway.”

“Yes,” Merle agreed. “It is time to head for home. Unless Trish is going to need help, with another patient convalescing in the house.”

Silence followed this comment.

At 7:15, the boys headed out to do their choirs and then get ready for school. For them at least, life was returning to some level of normality.  
Inside the surgery, the surgical team was finally coming to the end of it. David was preparing to close the wound as he stitched damaged tissue, both from the bullet wound and from his own intrusion, back together again. It was a slow process, making sure that nothing got missed and nothing got left behind. Other than the bullet itself, that is.   
It had been a long night for everyone, and they were tired, but David kept on.

“How is he doing?” he asked his assistant.

“He’s weak,” Nancy reported. “You’ll need to be finished soon. I’m amazed that he has held on this long.”

David nodded. “I know.”

A few more minutes passed, and David was nearly done.

“David,” Nancy said, with a tremor in her voice. “He’s gone cold.”

David’s eyes snapped over to Jacobs’ face. She was right, he could tell just from looking at the pallid complexion and the grey-blue tinge that was just beginning to spread over his features.

“Dammit,” David whispered. “More oxygen! Give him more oxygen.”

Nancy drew back the chloroform cloth to give Tricia room to place the face mask over Jacobs’ nose and mouth and begin to pump air into his lungs. They all waited, in a strained silence, hoping to see the right color return to the patient’s skin.

Nancy pressed her fingers against the pulse point in his neck and shook her head. “Still very weak.”

Once again, David put aside his utensils and placing his hands over the sternum, began the rhythmic pressure to coax the heart back into action. He kept at it and at it, as the strained silence in the room intensified. David tasted blood, and only then did he realize that he had bitten into his own lip as he focused so intently, both physically and mentally, on getting his friend stabilized again. 

“Come on,” he pleaded. “Just a little longer; we’re almost there. Come on, Carl. Please.”

Finally, Nancy nodded. “It’s picking up.”

David breathed a sigh of relief, and both he and Nancy stood back from their ministrations to see if the steady rhythm would carry on, on its own. Everyone was watching the rise and fall of the chest, while Nancy continued to monitor the pulse rate.

She nodded again. “It’s getting stronger.”

Another collective sigh of relief.

“Okay,” David said, and picked up a clean needle in order to continue closing up.

He barely got one more suture in when Jacobs’ body suddenly went into convulsions and his heart rate escalated and was all over the place. David cursed, and dropping everything, he began pounding on his patient’s chest, desperately trying to shock the heart back into submission. Everyone was grabbing whatever part of the body was closest to them, in an effort to keep it still and prevent it from doing even more damage to itself…

 

At 7:45, Tricia came into the kitchen. She was exhausted, and though the other people in the room all looked to her for information, she did not look at any of them, nor did she offer any information. She went straight to the tea pot and poured out two cups of the magical elixir.

“Trich,” asked Belle. “How is it going?”

She didn’t respond. David entered the kitchen then, and Trish offered him one of the cups of tea. He accepted it and took a sip.

“David,” Jesse asked. “Have you finished? How is he?”

David didn’t answer, and with a tightening of her heart, Merle noticed that his hands had started to shake. She felt a sob rising up from the depth of her soul, but it was never noticed as the roar of despair coming from David drowned out all other emotions in the room. He gasped for air, and then with all the anger and frustration and sorrow in his heart, he flung the tea cup from him, and sent it smashing into the far wall. Eleanor started to cry, but before anyone else could react, he turned and strode from the kitchen, down the hallway, and entombed himself in the master bedroom.

“David…” Tricia called, then setting down her own tea cup, she ran after him, leaving the inhabitants of the kitchen in stunned, heart-wrenching shock.

She came into the bedroom and found him there, standing, facing the side wall, bent over at the waist with one hand supporting him against the structure, while the other hugged desperately at his own gut. He was sobbing uncontrollably.

Tricia shut the door behind her and ran to him. She wrapped her arms around him, and he grabbed onto her as a lifesaver. He cried into her softness; into her loving scent, and she clutched at him, holding him tightly, and added her own tears to his. 

 

Arizona

Miranda and Hannibal relaxed in the relative coolness of their private roomette aboard the eastbound Southern Pacific Railroad train. Heyes knew that he and the Kid had never ventured this far south for their thieving excursions, but he still wondered idly at the logistics of pulling one off, on this particular line. Even now, his lazy gaze scanned the landscape, as his mind automatically sought out sections that offered good cover, or where a bend in the tracks would have made a perfect spot for a blockade. Old habits died hard, and since Heyes had no intentions of killing off his talent for calculations, he sat back and enjoyed himself.

Miranda sat across from him as the train clattered along its way. But unbeknownst to him, instead of enjoying the outside scenery, she was watching her husband’s face. He didn’t fool her; she could see his eyes flicking over the dry, uninteresting terrain, uninteresting, that is, to anyone other than an professional train robber. She saw his lips moving, as he worked out calculations in his mind, taking note of the speed of the train, and the length of track as it sped along the straightaway. She knew what he was up to. Prison, marriage and fatherhood hadn’t changed the scoundrel inside of him.

“Having a good time?” she finally asked him, innocently.

“Hmm?” Heyes was brought back to the present.

She smiled, coyly. “How much did you and your gang net off of this train?”

Heyes smiled then, himself, realizing he’d been caught out. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he lied smoothly. “I’m just watching the scenery.”

“Yes,” she commented dryly, as she watched the never ending miles of cacti stretching out in all directions. “I can understand how mesmerizing it must be.”

“Not as mesmerizing as the scenery right in front of me,” Heyes flirted.

Miranda laughed and rolled her eyes. “You cad!” she accused him. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Their playfulness was interrupted by a discreet tapping on the door to their roomette.

Heyes frowned in mild irritation. “Yes?”

The door opened and another black stewert named George, respectfully poked his head in.

“Pardon me, sir,” he stated. “but refreshments are being served in the club car, sir, if you would care to partake. For the lady, there is tea offered in first class seating.”

“Oh.” Heyes looked disappointed. “Can my wife not join me in the club car before dinner?”

“If the gentleman prefers,” George assured him, though it was obvious to his thinking that a lady wouldn’t care to join the men for a drink.

“Yes, the gentleman does prefer,” Heyes confirmed. “Thank you. Ah, when will dinner be served.”

“In another hour, sir. It will be announced.”

“Thank you.”

George nodded his head and left to continue on down the corridor with his message.

Heyes smiled over at his wife. “Care to join me for a before dinner drink?”

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” Miranda accepted, as they stood up in preparation of leaving.

“Oh, now it’s ‘kind sir’ is it?” Heyes teased. “A moment ago, I was a cad.”

“A moment ago, you weren’t offering wine.”

 

Arriving in the club car, the couple quickly found a private table for two over by a window, and they got themselves settled in. Heyes did a quick survey of the area and satisfied himself that there were no threatening individuals in amongst the other partakers. Most were men, but some had ladies with them and the atmosphere was relaxed and friendly.

“This is nice,” Randa commented, as she glanced around. “Much nicer than staring at the scenery outside.”

“Hmm,” her husband agreed. “Arizona can be pretty in the spring, but now, it is rather drab.”

“Yes,” Miranda concurred. “I remember seeing cacti in bloom. I couldn’t believe the colors, they were so beautiful. Doesn’t last long though, I’m afraid.”

“Nope. Ahh!”

The waiter had approached their table. “Good evening. What would the gentleman and the lady like to drink?”

“I’ll have a glass of white wine,” Miranda told him. “Not too sweet.”

“And sir?”

“I believe I’ll have a cognac.”

“Ah! Very good sir.”

“Oh, a cognac, Hannibal?” Miranda teased. “Going top shelf tonight.”

“Yes, I thought I would. How about you? Would you prefer that, instead of wine?”

“No,” Miranda assured him. “Junior doesn’t mind a glass or two of wine, but I’m afraid anything stronger would cause a rebellion.”

“Good point.”

The waiter smiled discreetly, and took his leave. Really! The things some people will say in front of a waiter. It was as though he didn’t even exist. There were some stories he could tell, alright. Especially after a few drinks had been had, that was when tongues could really start to wag! It was a good thing he wasn’t a busy body, and understood something about decorum. Knowing when to keep your mouth shut was one of the main requirements of this job, and it was a good job. Nobody else in his family was making the money he was, and he did meet some interesting people. Besides that, he’d come to realize over the years, that once you learned how to be right there when wanted, yet remain invisible, the higher the tip was at the end of the day.

Miranda watched her husband, as, once again, his eyes and attention were drawn to the passing landscape. Hannibal felt her gaze upon him, and he returned his soft scrutiny onto her once again.

“You look lovely tonight,” he told her.

She snorted. “You’re back to being a cad.”

“Oh.”

“You’re in an odd mood, this evening,” she observed. “What are you thinking about?”

Hannibal sighed and leaned back.

“Well…” he began, but stopped when the waiter returned with their drinks. "Ah, thank you."

“Yessir.”

“Will dinner be served in here?”

“If you wish.”

“Yes, thank you. Why move, if we don’t have to.”

“Very good, sir.”

The waiter left, and Hannibal raised his glass in a toast. Miranda, who had been about to take a sip of wine, quickly diverted the rim of her glass in order to let it clink with his. She spilled a few drops of the contents upon her napkin and almost found herself cursing.

Heyes grinned. “Something wrong?”

“You did that on purpose,” she accused him. “You’re not a cad, you’re a rogue.”

The left dimple put in an appearance, and then he deftly changed the subject. “Look at that sunset out there,” he suggested. “Some of the most beautiful sunsets are here on the desert. They’re hard to beat.”

Miranda glanced at the sun’s explosion of colours on the distant horizon. It was beautiful, but it did not hold her attention for long.

“You’ve changed the subject,” she noted. “You’re melancholy at a time when you should be happy. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Miranda frowned at him. “Hannibal.”

Heyes sipped his cognac and took a moment to savour the intense ambiance of the liquid as it settled into his sinuses and then burned down his throat.

“Hannibal?”

He smiled at her. “It’s just a little nostalgia,” he told her. “Nothing important.”

“The good ole’ days?” she asked. “Robbing trains and blowing open safes. Always on the run, galloping hell bent for leather across the desert, or sleeping in a cave in an effort to stay warm and dry. Never enough to eat and always looking over your shoulder…”

“You don’t have to put it that way,” Heyes feigned insult. “Although, the Kid and I did wind up being chased all over this countryside at one point. We’d just come from doin a job for Mac, and wouldn’t you know it? Some nondescript farmer was driving his buckboard towards town, just as we were headed out, and damned if he didn’t recognize us. That posse gave us a hell of a chase. I don’t know if we would have gotten away, if it hadn’t been for Harry.”

“Harry?” Miranda asked. “How did he get involved in that? Was he on a case that brought him this far south?”

“Ha!” Heyes laughed. “No! He’d had a falling out with Bannerman and gotten himself fired. He was down and out on his luck, just like us. We hopped a freight, hoping to shake that posse, and as luck would have it; there he was in the same boxcar we’d climbed into. We were taking a chance, trusting him to help us out. Let’s face it, bringing in Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry would have been a real feather for Bannerman’s, and they wouldn’t have had any choice but to take Harry back on again.”

“Good point,” Miranda agreed. “I take it; he didn’t do that.”

“No,” Heyes agreed. “He had us going there for a while though.” He smiled, his wide grin bracketed by deep dimples. “Kid sure was mad at me, too. It had been my idea to trust Harry, and it was looking like he’d set us up. But it all worked out. We got away, and Harry found himself a couple of other low-life, thievin’ outlaws to hand over to Bannerman’s as a peace offering.”

Miranda chuckled. “The lives you led! There was no need for dime novels to make things up about you, the two of you were doing just fine on your own. An honest biography would be far more interesting than the fabricated tales of the weekly serial.”

“Hmm,” Heyes agreed. “And if Nathan Brenner has his way, he’ll be the one to write it.”

Miranda smiled wickedly. “I’m looking forward to it. Finally! An honest accounting of my husband’s illustrious past!”

“Careful,” Heyes warned her. “You might wind up being bored. It wasn’t all gunfights and wild chases. There were good times too. Sleeping out on a night like this. The stars really were like a canopy, and all you had to do was reach up and touch them. We enjoyed traveling. And we weren’t always on the run, you know. We’d go for months just living normal lives…” Miranda chuckled. “…What?”

“You and Jed?” she asked incredulously. “Normal lives?”

“Well,” Heyes shrugged. “Normal for us.”

“Oh.”

“And when we didn’t have people shootin’ at us, it was a pretty good life. Foot loose, and fancy free. No worries. Other than the big worry.”

“And now you’re tied down and feeling the weight of responsibilities.”

“No.” Heyes shrugged. “Like I said, just reminiscing.” He took Miranda’s hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “I wouldn’t go back to it now, not for anything. I’m looking forward to getting home.” He smiled again, and gave a little laugh. “Wow, never thought I’d hear myself saying that.”

“What? Going home?”

“Yes. I never thought I’d be able to settle anywhere for long. But now, it’s home, and it will be good to get back.”

“Yes,” his wife agreed. “It’s been a lovely trip, but I’ll be ready to head for home next week. Don’t get me wrong though, I am looking forward to meeting Mr. McCreedy. It seems that I’m the only one in the family who hasn’t met him, and he is your honorary ‘uncle’ after all.”

“Ha! More the Kid’s. I just kind’a got thrown into the mix. And there was nothing honorable about it. Mac saw something in a pair of reformed outlaws, that he could use, and he sure has taken advantage of it.”

“You’re both free men now,” Randa pointed out. “He doesn’t have anything on you anymore. Why don’t you simply walk away?”

Heyes shrugged. “I donno. I guess he is kind of an honorary uncle now, whether we like it or not. And he did come through and help us out, when we really needed it.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Randa agreed. “All the more reason to take the time to meet him and his wife. Then we can go home; I miss our daughter, and the quiet routine of our daily lives.”

Heyes smiled, not sure if his wife was being facetious or not. The twinkle in her eye gave him his answer.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Me too.”

Brookswood 

Jed approached the veranda, not sure if he should intrude on the lone occupant of the porch swing. His mind was telling him that it might be best to leave things along, but his legs kept on walking, and before he knew it, he was coming up the steps, and sitting down on the swing, beside his friend.

On closer examination, David was not alone in his revelry. He was holding his daughter. He had been holding his daughter a lot lately, as though the presence of young life brought some solace to him in the aftermath of such a devastating defeat.

Jed sat and said nothing. Silence ensued as Eleanor clutched her father’s finger, and sucked on the digit. 

“I hate guns,” David finally stated. “All they do is maim and kill.”

Jed sighed and remained silent. What could he say to that, considering his previous profession?

Eleanor cooed quietly as she played with her father’s shirt buttons. Picking up on how distraught he was, and being attracted by the way the morning sunshine brightened up the circular objects, she made a point of demanding his attention. It was working, too, as her childish playing soothed his heart and gave him something to hold onto during this time of loss and doubt.

“Why do I bother?” he asked his friend. “With all the reading that I do; all the efforts to stay in the forefront of my profession. What’s the point, when my patients die anyway?”

Again, Jed remained silent. He’d come to recognize the pattern now; this mourning that David went through whenever he lost a patient. There was no point in trying to console him, no point in handing out the usual platitudes; they’d only fall upon deaf ears. The fact that this time, it was a friend who had died, only convinced Jed to keep silent all the more. David had to be the one to work his way out of this, just as he always had done in the past.

David looked down at his daughter. He smiled sadly at her, and ran a soft caress down her cheek, his hand gentle and loving. Eleanor smiled and gurgled up at him; she laughed and began to swat playfully at his hand. Though totally unaware of the tragedy that had recently befallen her family, she could sense the dark mood that had settled in over her world, and she continued to do her best to get her father to smile. She loved it when he smiled at her.

“Why do you do it?” David quietly asked his friend. “You don’t need to wear a gun anymore. Why do you?”

Jed was silent for a moment, feeling like he was being put on the spot.

“Jeez, David,” he answered, somewhat self-consciously. “I donno. I always have, and now I just feel nekked goin’ without. When me and Heyes was growin’ up, it was hard times. We had to look out for one another. Heyes was good at figurin’ things, and I guess, I just got good at shootin’ a gun. I kept us safe—most of the time. Jeez, Lom wouldn’t have told me to stay behind and help protect the town otherwise. Somebody’s gotta be able to do it.”

“I suppose,” David conceded.

“Besides,” Jed continued. “I learned early, when you wear a gun, most folks don’t bother ya’. When ya’ wear and gun tied down, like ya’ mean business, then even those thinkin’ a’ botherin’ ya’, back off.”

“It didn’t stop your friend, Mr. Bilson,” David pointed out. “Not did it stop that young fella at the 4th of July gathering a few years back. Seemed to me, that it was the fact that you were wearing a gun tied down, that provoked them into challenging you.”

“Well, maybe,” Jed accepted the point. “But now you’re tellin; me to go back in time thirty years, and make a different choice than I did back then. But I can’t do that. Back then, it was what kept me alive. Up until ten years ago, it’s what kept me and Heyes in business. Now, with our new venture, we’re still dealin’ with violent men, and we need our guns even more. That’s who I am, it’s what’s expected from me. I can’t go back and change the past.”

“No, but you could change the future,” David pointed out. “You don’t need to wear a gun anymore. Steven doesn’t, and neither do I. Jesse doesn’t either. Do you consider them weak, or cowardly?”

“Nope,” Jed admitted. “Anything but. But we’re different men, David. The world would have to change a whole lot more, before I’d stop wearin’ a gun. Let’s face it, Sheriff Jacobs wore one. Do you hold him in low esteem now, because of it?”

“No,” David assured him. “Carl was a good man. He was able to keep the peace just by his presence of character. I can’t remember the last time he drew his gun; he never had to.”

“Yep,” Jed continued. “So, just ‘cause a man carries a gun, that don’t make him a killer, that don’t make him mean. That Baird clan was already mean; they didn’t need guns to make ‘em that way.”

“I guess you have a point there,” David admitted.

“Yep,” Jed repeated. “Hopefully, a hundred years from now, nobody’ll be wearing these things. But for here and now, I’m gonna keep on wearin’ one. Hopefully I don’t even have to use it again, but if I do, then I don’t wanna kill nobody. I’ve had my share of killin’, and it’s sure not somethin’ I enjoyed. One of my biggest regrets, is that Heyes had to experience it too. That sits hard on him, even if that bastard, Carson, did deserve it. It ain’t the gun that kills people, David; it’s the man who’s wearin’ it. Sheriff Jacobs was a good man. So is Joe Morin. If it’s gonna take men with guns to bring in Jacobs’ murderers, then so be it. I ain’t got nothin’ to say against that.”

David sat and made no response to that reasoning. He could find no fault in it and yet, he resented it none the less. He leaned down and gave his daughter a kiss on the forehead and her joyous laughter pushed healing light into his heart.

Texas

“Finally,” Miranda sighed as the train slowed to a halt at the small depot. “I really need to get off this rolling steam bath and get some fresh air.”

“I agree,” Heyes commented. “But stay close. Fort Hancock isn’t well known for it’s sophisticated residents. Actually, there’s very few residents here, other than the army. Just about everybody else is a transient. So be careful.”

“I see other ladies getting off the train, so it can’t be too bad,” Randa observed. “Come on. Let me grab my fan, and my hat, and we’ll go for a walk.”

“Alright,” Heyes agreed, and he stood up to strap his holster on around his hips. “Can’t be too careful, though. This town was wild when Kid and me were hanging around here. I doubt it’s changed much.”

“You and Jed spent a lot of time here?” Randi asked, as they headed down the stuffy corridor towards the nearest exit.

“Oh yes,” he confirmed. “We usually came through here whenever we had to meet up with Mac. We had some real fine times here.”

Randi cocked an eyebrow at him. “Fun loving town, was it?”

Heyes grinned. “It can be. Not much law here, because of the army. But those soldiers can get just as rowdy as any outlaws I’ve ever known. Lots of drinking, and fighting and…other things. Everybody had a good time!”

Miranda raised a teasing eyebrow at the ‘other things’, and her husband sent her an innocent smile. Oh, what a charmer he was; he could melt her heart with just a look. Chuckling to herself, she stepped down onto the platform and instantly flicked open her fan and put it into action.

“Ohh, it’s hotter out here than it is on the train,” she groaned. “But at least there’s a breeze. I don’t know how you can stand wearing those heavier clothes. Why didn’t you wear those cottons you got in Mexico?”

Heyes shrugged. “I’m comfortable in these. The cottons were great while we were in a resort town, but here, I have a certain image to maintain.”

Miranda laughed. “Image!” she teased him. “You just like carrying that gun around on your hip; it makes you feel important.” Her husband simply smiled, but made no comment. “Personally, I’m pleased to be able to wear these light clothes,” Randa continued. “It’s hot enough, without stuffing myself into a corset and a high collar.”

Heyes slipped an arm around her waist and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You look lovely,” he told her. “All the more reason to stay close.”

“Yes, dear.”

The couple left the depot and made their way up to the main street. There was the usual hotel, and saloon, and of course, a mercantile. There was the livery and the bawdy house down at the end. But the town had grown somewhat since Heyes’ last visit, and there was evidence of a larger residential area, spreading out behind the usual business establishments that lined the main street. The absence of the more refined business, such as ladies apparel or a soda shop along with a sheriff’s office, did not go unnoticed. As Hannibal had commented earlier, it was a rowdy town. The only real law in Fort Hancock was the army, and their presence was obvious.

Not only were there soldiers in town, going about their off-duty business, but anyone walking along the main street could have a clear view of the fort itself, situated about a mile outside the town limits. The soldiers didn’t look any more civilized than the other inhabitants who were ambling by or heading into the saloon. It was a rough and ready town, where the seedier merchandise mingled quite freely with the regular folks, plying their trade without hesitation. The fact that Hannibal had a lady on his arm, didn’t deter many of those ladies from giving him a smile. Perhaps one or two of them remembered him from past dalliances, but Heyes doubted it. The ladies in that profession didn’t stay in one town for very long.

Here, Europeans mingled with Indians and Mexicans and everything else in between. Miranda’s brightly colored skirt and cotton blouse fit in quite nicely with the usual attire that many of the darker ladies were wearing. The few Caucasian women who were residing in Hancock due to marriage to an officer, or helping husbands run a business, did the best they could with what was available. Light cotton cloth or buckskin seemed to be popular, and the local seamstress managed to create miracles out of whatever was available. 

Even at that, Miranda still appeared uncouth by some of their standards, but though she chose to ignore them, she was finding her situation becoming more and more uncomfortable. She was hot and feeling flushed and the heavy aroma of unwashed humanity was causing her to feel nauseous and over-whelmed. Dizziness was threatening to take over and she tightened her grip on her husband's arm.

“Are you sure there isn’t a café or anything in this town?” Miranda asked. “Someplace where we can get an ice, or even a cup of tea?”

“Hmm,” Heyes looked around. “to be quite honest, whenever I’ve been here in the past, that wasn’t what I was generally looking for. I don’t recall ever seeing one though. The hotel has an eatery but it’s no better than the saloon.”

“Things may have changed a little since then,” Miranda suggested hopefully as she waved her fan in front of her face. Unfortunately, this action did not do much to alleviate the dust that was dancing about on the hot breeze, but it did add to the illusion of lowering the temperature and breaking up the odours.

“I doubt it,” Heyes rebutted. “Nothing much else has changed, so why should that?”

“Oh, just hoping,” Miranda stated with feeling. “There must be something in this town. Why else would the train stop here?”

“Dropping off supplies for the army, I would expect,” Heyes answered. “Not too much else out here.”

“I’ll say!” Randa agreed. “It’s so hot.”

“It’s not that hot,” Heyes countered. “The breeze is taking the edge off. You should be here in August; the place is like a…”

Miranda stopped and leaned into her husband. Heyes turned to her, concern taking over from his flippancy.

“Are you alright?” he asked her, as he supported her elbow. “Perhaps we should have stayed on the train.”

Miranda continued to wave the fan, and she drew in a couple of deep breaths of the hot, dusty air. She stood quietly for a moment and gave her head time to stop buzzing.

“I think I just need to sit for a moment,” she assured him. “How strange. The heat has never bothered me like this before.”

“You’ve never been pregnant before, either,” Hannibal whispered to her. “Sit down, over here.”

He led her over to a bench in front of the mercantile store and helped her to ease down onto it.

“Oh, this is so silly,” Miranda stated. “I’m sure I’ll be fine in a moment.”

“Yeah,” Han agreed, though he still looked worried. 

He glanced around and spied the water trough on the other side of the store entrance, and undoing his bandanna, he walked down the steps to the street, and dunked the square of material into the liquid. He came back and sat down beside his wife, with her smiling teasingly at him.

“The water trough?” she queried. “Is that what you think of me?”

Heyes shrugged. “It’s the best I can do on short notice,” he responded. “At least it will help to cool you down. Then we can go back to the train and get some clean water for you. I wouldn’t trust the drinking water in this town, even if we could find some.”

He placed the dripping bandanna upon her forehead, then laid it across the back of her neck. She felt a chill go through her, and she sighed with relief.

“Oh, that does feel better,” she admitted, and taking the soaked ends of the bandanna, she began to caress her face and throat with it. After a moment of indulgence, she regally held the material out to her husband and gave him a pointed look. “Go and dunk it again, my good man.”

Heyes smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

He stood up and made his way back to the trough in order to fulfill his wife’s wishes and was in the process of dunking the bandanna into the water for the second time, when he heard the clink of spurs upon the boardwalk, and the sound of a vaguely familiar voice. Turning, he found that his position beside Miranda had been taken over by a rough shaven hooligan who thought he’d just hit pay dirt.

The usurper smiled in a partially toothless grin and his one wall eye, partnered up with a watery blue one, gave the man an unsettling appearance that did anything but give assurance. Apparently unaware of the creepy imbalance of his countenance, he tipped his dusty hat to the lady. 

“My, what a purdy thing you are,” he sweet-talked in a most unsavoury manner. “I always thunk you ladies stayed down at the other end ‘a town. What you doin’ way up here?”

From the look on Miranda’s face, the breath coming at her was laced with alcohol, and she put a hand up in an attempt to block his pawing fingers.

“Snake!” Heyes barked at him, as he strode back to the bench, his fists clenched and ready for battle.

The man jumped and farted loudly in his surprise, but when he saw Heyes, his face went from wide-eyed consternation, to a loutish grin.

“Heyes!” he shouted, as he stood up and extended his hand for a shake. “You ole’ bastard! What do ya’ know; runnin’ inta’ you here.”

Miranda took the opportunity to rise up from the bench and walk away from the crude individual. Heyes had her in his peripheral vision, but didn’t take his eyes of the man in front of him.

“Yeah, what do ya’ know about that?” Heyes answered, as he extended his hand, but held it out to his wife rather than the offered dirty paw.

Snake’s expression went from grinning surprise to leery concern as he noted the connection between the two people. 

“Oh. Hey, Heyes,” he fumbled, as he looked anxiously around. “I didn’t realize she was already taken. Just had ta’ say so, ya’ know.” He giggled nervously as he met Heyes’ eyes, then flicked off again, scrutinizing the street behind the ex-outlaw leader.

Heyes’ ire rose as he realized what it was that Snake was searching for, and the man’s next words confirmed it.

“The Kid with ya’?” Snake-eyes asked, trying to sound casual, but not succeeding.

“Why would that matter?” Heyes asked quietly. He felt Miranda tighten her grip on his left hand, and was aware of a small group of people pausing in their own business to await the outcome of what was obviously an entertaining diversion.

“No, no reason,” Snake smiled foolishly. “Hell, I meant nothin’, you know that. Like I said, I didn’t realize the whore was already engaged.” He did one more scan of the area, and still not seeing Kid Curry within striking distance, began to feel a little more at ease. “I don’t mind waitin’ till yur done. Hell, a purdy little tidbit like that—I don’t mind standin’ in line.”

“You bastard!” Heyes snarled, and with lip curled, he made a move towards the dirtbag.

“No, Hannibal!” Miranda refused to let go of his hand, and she held him back. “Don’t. It’s not worth it. Can’t you see, he’s drunk?”

Snake had stepped back when Heyes had started to come for him, but now he straightened up again and smirked.

“Yeah, Hannibal,” he mimicked Miranda. “Can’t cha see I’s drunk? Ha, ha. The Kid ain’t here, is he? Ya’ know, now that I think about it, she were sittin’ here all on her lonesome, and obviously available. So now, it seems ta’ me, that you’re movin’ in on my time. Maybe you’re the one who needs ta’ wait yur turn.”

“You watch your mouth!” Heyes warned him and then smiled dangerously. “I don’t need the Kid here to help me teach someone like you some manners.”

“Fuck, ‘Hannibal’,” Snake laughed. “She’s just a whore, what cha gettin’ all…”

“She’s my wife!” Heyes countered, allowing his voice to harden threateningly. “And you’d be wise to apologize to her for your rudeness.”

“Hey, mister,” one of the solders who was on the sidelines decided it was time to intervene. “If she was a whore, that’s one thing. But that ain’t language for a man’s wife. You best apologize.”

Snake-eye guffawed, ignoring the sound advice. “Dammit!” he cursed, and spit. “Yur wife? If that don’t beat all. I could see the Kid getting’ all sentimental over a piece ‘a tart, but you? Hell, Heyes, I thought you had more brains than ta’ turn around an’ marry a whore!”

Heyes forgot about his wife standing next to him. He didn’t make a sound, but in an instant, he’d lowered his head and made a run at the man, ramming his shoulders full tilt into Snake’s gut. Eyes bulging, and mouth gaping, The Snake was launched backwards, and hitting the bench, tumbled over the back of it, to land with a loud thump and a puff of dust, onto the boardwalk.

A few of the officers’ ladies who were in attendance, uttered sounds of alarm and hastily made an exit, threatening to report the ruffians to their husbands, and have the soldiers put on report. Their warnings went unheeded and only served to increase the volume of jeers and cat calls that accompanied most street brawls in any cow town, including a few higher pitched tones coming from the more colorful feminine population.

Heyes didn’t even hear the encouragement as he pulled away from Miranda and jumped over the bench to get at his target. Sitting astride Snake’s chest, the ex-outlaw began pummeling his adversary’s head, hitting him over and over again, with no sign of letting up.

Between the punches, Snake could be heard pleading with him to stop, but he didn’t stop. It wasn’t until a couple of the more seasoned solder boys decided that it had gone on long enough, and ran in to pull the enraged husband off the miscreant. 

“C’mon, break it up!” one of the blue boys shouted as rough hands grabbed at Heyes’ arms, and pulled him off the pile of dirt.

“You bastard!” Heyes snarled at the usurper. “Your manners haven’t changed since you left Devil’s Hole!”

“I sure can’t say the same fer you!” Snake whined as he pulled himself to his feet, assisted by a private. He wiped a sleeve across his face and got a streak of blood for his efforts. “I guess prison taught you how ta’ stand up fer yerself, huh Heyes? Damn. You’ve changed, boy.”

“I haven’t changed that much, Snake,” Heyes snapped back, as he shook himself free of the men holding him. “I seem to recall running you out of the Hole without any problem. I didn’t need the Kid then either, did I? Now you apologize to my wife.”

“Hannibal, please,” Miranda stepped over to him and took hold of his left hand again. “It’s not worth trouble. Let’s just go back to the train.” Her voiced lowered to a quivering whisper as she squeezed his hand tighter. “You’re frightening me.”

Heyes looked over into his wife’s eyes and the fear that was there calmed him faster than a dousing of icy water. He swallowed guiltily, then slipping his left arm around her waist, he nodded his understanding. He took a deep breath to let go of the rest of his anger, and turned to look again at the vagabond standing against the hand railing.

“My wife is right,” Heyes commented. “You’re not worth bringing trouble onto us. However, my wife is also a lady, and she does deserve an apology. If you’re any kind of a man, you’ll offer one and walk away from this with some pride intact.”

Snake-eye sneered as he wiped more blood from his nose and mouth, but one look around at the audience and he realized that he had the losing hand. Even a couple of legitimate whores, standing in amongst the other observers, were curious as to which way this was going to go. Snake picked up on the notion, that if he didn’t apologize, he could pretty much forget about getting any comfort, paid for or otherwise, from that quarter.

He coughed and spit blood into the dirt. “Yeah, alright,” he grudgingly agreed, as he stumbled down the steps and came towards the couple.

Miranda pulled back as Snake approached her, but as he extended his grimy hand for hers, she pushed back the repulsion, and allowed him to grasp her fingers. Then, to her further disgust, he executed a shaky bow, and bringing her hand to his lips, gave it a gentle kiss.

“I do apologize, ma’am,” he slurred. “Obviously my remakes were not meant for a real lady, and I was out of line.”

“Yes, thank you,” Miranda responded as she hastily slipped her hand away from his. Fortunately, she still had her husband’s bandanna, and she quickly wiped the blood from her skin. “Apology accepted.”

Snake straightened up, and for the first time, really took a look at Miranda. Then he noticed the soft, clean complexion, the shinny hair and the dark eyes. It was those eyes, though now tinged with anxiety and, he noticed with a twist of guilt, disgust, were eyes alive with an intelligence and kindness that is usually long gone from the eyes of a soiled dove.

“Ma’am, I truly am sorry,” Snake said again, only this time with true meaning. “I’m a stupid ole’ cuss, sometimes. I meant no disrespect.”

Miranda smiled and Snake grinned back. 

He turned to Heyes and held out his hand again. This time Heyes accepted it.

“You got yursel’ a real fine woman there, Heyes,” Snake told him. “If that don’t beat all. Next yur gonna be tellin’ me that the Kid’s gone an' got hisself married too. Ha ha! Now wouldn’t that be a hoot!”

“Times change, Snake.” Heyes commented. 

“They sur do,” Snake agreed. “Now I’m gonna go get me another drink. See ya’ around Heyes. Ma’am.” He brought his hand up to tip the hat that wasn’t on his head anymore, and then staggered off towards the cantina.

Instantly, the small crowd gathered around the victor, with back slapping and hand shaking ensuing.

“You sure done him up right,” came one comment. “Good thing that lout don’t live here, or he’d be getting’ even more of a chewin’ out.”

“You alright, ma’am?” came another enquiry, followed by a polite tipping of a soldier’s hat. “Even a whore don’t deserve to be talked to like that.”

“Oh yes,” Miranda assured him, though she herself was feeling over-whelmed. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Yes, we’re good,” Heyes concurred. “Thanks for your help fellas, but I think we’ll head back to the train now. I expect it’ll be leaving soon.”

“Sure would like ta’ buy ya’ a round a’ drinks,” came another voice. “Show ya’ that folks in Hancock ain’t all bad.”

“Thank you,” Heyes responded, “but, perhaps another time.”

Heyes had Miranda around the waist and was trying to maneuver her through the group and back towards the depot. Most of the spectators respected their wishes and let them go, but one young Apache woman, who looked completely out of place in her rouge and lipstick, and her tight fitting, low cut bodice and high heels, caught Miranda by the sleeve and pulled her aside.

“My honey, but you are lookin’ a bit green around the gills,” came the words that didn’t fit the face. “You gonna be alright?”

“Oh,” Miranda was taken by surprise, but the look of compassion in the woman’s eyes held her in place, despite her husband’s attempts to keep her moving. “Thank you, but I’m sure, I’ll be…”

The Indian leaned in and whispered, conspiratorially. “It’s not hard to see that you’re in the family way. Is this somethin’ you want to get rid of, or are you and your man…?”

“Oh!” Miranda’s eyes widened, not sure if she should be offended or not. “No, no. My husband and I are greatly looking forward…”

The round painted face smiled, and the woman patted Miranda’s arm. “Good, good,” she said, assuringly, and digging into a pocket, she pulled out a small pouch. “I got medicine for whatever ails ya, but since ya’ wants ta’ keep the young’un, take some of this before ya’ retire for the night. It’ll help with the sickness. It won’t hurt the child none, and it’ll make you feel a whole lot better.”

The pouch was pushed into Miranda’s hand before she could refuse it, and any protest she might have uttered, feel on deaf ears as the round figure, balancing on heels headed back towards the lower end of town.

“Oh my,” Miranda commented. “How strange. But how kind.”

“Hmm,” Heyes wasn’t impressed. “Not sure I’d take any of that, if I were you.”

“Oh, Hannibal! Surely she wouldn’t…”

“You don’t know,” Heyes told her. “The Apache haven’t been treated too kindly in these parts. Remember what happened to Beth.”

“Oh, yes.” Miranda paled even more at the thought, and allowed herself to be escorted back to the train.

Xxx

The train chugged its way across the dry landscape with both Hannibal and Miranda sitting quietly and looking out the window at nothing. There was a slight strain in the air and Heyes was feeling the guilty knot in his gut tightening with each passing moment. Again, he was struck by the differences between his wife and his previous lover. Abi would be chewing his head off right about now. Calling him an arrogant ass for thinking that she actually needed him to come to her rescue, and just when, exactly, was he planning on growing up, etc., etc.?

But Miranda sat quietly, sipping her tea, lost in her own thoughts, and torturing him with her distant silence.

“I’m sorry,” he finally blurted out. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Miranda turned her dark blue eyes to meet his, and he felt the stab go through his heart at the emotion that was in them.

“You frightened me,” she quietly admitted. “I’ve never seen you like that before. You were out of control.”

“No I wasn’t,” Heyes insisted. “I was simply angry.”

“Hannibal, it took three of those solders to drag you off the man,” Miranda pointed out. “You were not going to stop until, when? Until your anger was sated? Until you beat him senseless? Until you killed him?”

“No!” Heyes insisted. “I wasn’t out of control.”

Miranda bit her lower lip and looked out the window again. It was obvious that she did not believe him.

“I guess you did give a hint of this type of behaviour when Beth was shot,” she mused. “I suppose at that time, because we weren’t married, or even courting for that matter, I didn’t pay attention. And I didn’t see it. One minute you were there with us, and the next you were gone. I was certainly worried about you, but I wasn’t frightened by your actions.” She sighed as more impressions came to her. “But then, David did say that you did things in prison. Mad, crazy things.” She turned and looked him in the eye again. “Things that made you a dangerous man.”

“I’m not proud of some of the things I did in prison, Miranda,” Heyes reminded her. “Please don’t hold that against me. You have no idea what it was like. It was an extremely hostile environment. You either stood up for yourself, or you got eaten alive.”

“Perhaps the behaviour you adopted in order to survive in prison has stayed with you,” she suggested. “Even though it is no longer necessary.”

“Miranda, he insulted you,” Heyes pointed out in his own defense. “What kind of husband would I be, if I let a lout like him get away with saying things like that to my wife?”

“An intelligent, compassionate one?” She suggested, then seeing the disappointed look on her husband’s face, she tried to soften her accusations. “I could understand going to that extreme, if he had been physically threatening me. But he wasn’t. Nor was he being intentionally rude, not like Cedric. He had the wrong impression, and he was drunk. I know that many women would have found your behaviour chivalrous, and been impressed. But I found it frightening, and a little disturbing. I didn’t need your protection, other than your presence. There was no need for violence. Once he realized his mistake, he was very sincere in his apology.”

Heyes nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed. “He wasn’t threatening you in the physical sense, but he was being rude. I’m sorry if I frightened you, but I wasn’t about to simply stand by and let him get away with that. And the Kid would have been after him a lot quicker than I was. Before prison, I prided myself on dealing with conflict by simply out-smarting the other fella, and I was the one holding the Kid back. Oh, I had to get tough on some of the fellas at the Hole, but most of them were too dumb to out-smart, if that makes any sense. The only thing they understood was a fat lip and a black eye. I suppose, what really made me angry was the fact that ole’ Snake-eye was more worried about whether the Kid was there or not. That I needed the Kid to back me up and without him there, then myself alone, wasn’t someone who needed to be respected.”

“Ahh,” Miranda smiled, her teasing personality beginning to rise to the surface again. “So, it wasn’t that he insulted me, but that he hurt your pride?”

Heyes grinned, both of them feeling better now. “Let’s just say, his attitude didn’t help the situation.”

Randa nodded agreement. “Alright.”

“I apologize,” he told her. “I really am a different person now than I was when I ran Devil’s Hole. But I’m also a different person than the man who spent four and half years in prison. I hope that I’m a better person. Obviously I can backslide on occasion, but being with you gives me incentive to keep on trying.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Randa told him. “I accept your apology.” Then, to change the subject, she picked up the small pouch that the Apache woman had given to her. “It’s such a lovely design,” she observed as she ran her finger across the delicate bead work on the leather. “Odd that she would give something like this away.”

Heyes looked at the pouch dubiously. “It may appear special to you, but it’s likely mundane to her. They tend to put beadwork like that on most things. I still wouldn’t take what’s in it.”

“I know,” Miranda assured him. “The tea is helping anyway. Still, I think I’ll hold onto this. Maybe David can tell what is in it, and if it’s safe to take.”

Heyes nodded, but his thoughts went back to Jed and Beth, and the tragic loss of their first child. Nothing was worth risking that.

To be Continued.


	14. The Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sally gets herself into trouble while trying to help an abandoned ranch dog.
> 
> Miranda and Hannibal arrive in Texas and get some down time at Mac's house, that is until Mac announces that he has other plans for his guests.

The Blues  
Brookswood

“He really shouldn’t be moved yet,” David insisted. “It’s one thing padding him up in a wheelchair, but putting him in a wagon and jolting him all the way out to the Double J is not a good idea.”  
“Oh dear,” Belle sighed with frustration. “I know you’re right, David, but we should be getting home. If we take it very slowly…”   
Belle stopped trying to bargain when David shook his head. “No,” the doctor stated. “He needs to stay still for a least another week. Longer, if I have my way.”  
“Another week!” came the response from the bedroom. “I can’t lie around here for another week!”  
David stepped into the room to deal with the snarking patient. “I’m sorry, Jesse,” he said. “I thought you were asleep. “You know yourself that you’re not ready to travel. If you don’t give yourself the time you need to heal, you’ll pay for it later.”  
“I’ll take the chance,” Jesse stubbornly countered. “I’ve had broken bones before and managed fine at home.”  
“Not like this,” David pointed out. “And you were younger then.”  
“David…”  
“Jesse. You’re not leaving yet and that’s final.”  
That said, David turned and left the room before any further argument could be made.  
“He’s in a foul mood today,” Jesse grumbled, then he sighed, repentantly. “I suppose I can’t hold that against him, though.”  
Belle smiled and came to sit down on the bed beside her husband. She gave his hand a consolatory pat.  
“You know he’s right,” she told him quietly.   
Jesse sighed. “Oh, I know. But we’re all spread a little thin here, and I don’t like leaving the ranch for so long. Sam’s gone on that posse, and Jed’s helping Joe, so that just leaves Deke and a couple of other hands to keep an eye on everyone’s places. It’s a lot to ask.”  
“Well, I think Jed is going out to check up on things today,” Belle commented. “I might just hitch up Monty and go check up on the house as well. I know Beth wants to get home herself, and make sure everything is in order after that fire.”  
“Is that wise?” Jesse asked. “That leaves just Joe here to cover things. Personally though, I doubt that those Bairds are going to come back into town; they’re running scared right now.”  
“They might come back for Courtney,” Belle speculated, though she sounded dubious.  
Jesse snorted then rubbed his left side as the broken ribs protested.  
“I don’t think Baird cares enough about either of his daughters to take a chance like that,” he said. “Those fellas are long gone.” He frowned as another thought struck him. “Speaking of his daughters, has anyone thought to inform Isabelle of these events?”  
Belle sighed, and looked a little concerned.  
“I don’t think anyone has had the heart, or the courage, to interrupt her honeymoon,” she commented. “I suppose Courtney might have sent them a telegram, but even she may not know exactly where they are. And considering that she wasn’t even at the wedding, I don’t think the sisters are close.”  
Jesse would have snorted again, but he was capable of learning from past mistakes. “You have a good point there. But didn’t Jed say something about them going to Buffalo first and then on to New York City? Perhaps Joe should at least try to track them down.”  
“I’ll mention it to Thaddeus,” Belle assured him. “If he thinks Joe needs to be prodded in that direction, I’m sure he’d be the best one to do it.”  
Jesse nodded then sighed again despite the restrictions on his ribcage.  
“Well, if you’re heading out to the ranch today, I’m going to need something to do. Is there at least a good book around here?”  
“Oh, I’m sure there is,” Belle surmised. “I’ll go and find you one. And stop your fretting. Besides, I think after what has happened, David needs someone here to look after. You’ll be helping him just as much as you’re helping yourself.”  
“Yes,” Jesse nodded agreement and then bit into his lower lip as sorrow rose up and clouded his eyes. “Damn,” he breathed. “I still can’t quite believe it. Why did I do it? Why did I push Carl to go out there?”  
Belle leaned forward, squeezing his good arm with both of her hands. “Jesse, you can’t blame yourself for this. It was Carl’s job to deal with them. Nobody expected things to go the way they did.”  
Jesse sat quietly and shook his head, a faraway look in his eyes. “He should have gone with backup, or not at all. We all know what the Bairds are like; mean tempered and unpredictable. He shouldn’t have gone out there alone.”  
“Jesse…”  
“Why was it so important, Belle? Most of us knew how ole’ man Baird treated his daughters, especially Isabelle, yet we did nothing about it. But as soon as it was my daughter, all of a sudden we’re up in arms. Now Carl has paid the price for my arrogance. I still can’t believe it. Carl was a fixture in this town. I haven’t been out of this house, and certainly not over to the sheriff’s office, and yet, I can feel the emptiness, like a huge open crater sitting right here.” And he placed his hand over his heart. “I don’t know,” he continued, his voice tightening with emotion. “how I’m going to ever forgive myself.”  
Belle felt tears threatening as she lay her head against her husband’s chest. “Please don’t do this,” she whispered. “It wasn’t your fault. Nobody’s blaming you.”  
“No?” Jesse asked. “Why hasn’t Bridget been over to see me? They’re still in town, aren’t they? And if they aren’t, why didn’t she come to say good-bye?”  
“They’re still in town,” Belle admitted. “And you’re right; Bridget is upset over this, as are we all. But I’m sure she doesn’t blame you.”  
Jesse sighed and squeezing his wife’s hand, he looked away and stared at the wall, his throat burning with the bitter emotion.  
“I’ll talk to her,” Belle offered. “I’ll have her come over. You’ll see; she doesn’t blame you.”  
Jesse nodded, but said nothing.  
“In the meantime,” Belle continued. “David needs something else to focus on. You know how hard he takes it, when he loses a patient. And now, with it being a friend as well, it must be ten times worse. Don’t give him a hard time, Jesse. Give him something to do, something that makes him feel worthy again.”  
“He still has patients over at the hotel, and down at John’s place,” Jesse pointed out. “He has plenty to do.”  
“I know,” Belle conceded. “But most of them aren’t his friends. You are. Believe me, it’ll make a difference.”  
“Alright.”  
Belle straightened up and gave her husband a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll see if I can find you a good book,” she told him. “Then I’d better get ready, if I want to get out to the ranch and back again, today.”  
“Why don’t you take Sally with you?” Jesse suggested. “I’m sure she’d love an excuse to get out for a ride.”  
“Sally is in school today, along with all the other children,” Belle reminded him.  
“Oh, of course,” Jesse responded. “Yes, I did forget. With so much going on, I’m surprised they are holding classes this week.”  
“Well, I think it was agreed, that the sooner the children got back into a normal routine, the better,” Belle explained. “Many of the older children are too busy, helping get their places cleaned up, but the younger ones need to have something constructive to do. It’ll keep them out of mischief.”  
Jesse smiled. “We can only hope.”  
Xxx  
Sally had accompanied her friends to school that morning, just as she did on all the other mornings since she had been living in Brookswood. None of them had picked up on the scared dog out at the Baird’s ranch, indeed, all they seemed to be able to talk about was the terrible events of the previous day and the ultimate outcome. School was just an excuse to gather and spread more information and speculation about what would happen once the Bairds were brought to justice. And of course, they would be, Todd insisted, since his father was part of the posse that had gone after them.  
Sally hung back and didn’t contribute to this conversation. She was waiting for the precise moment to make her break. She had to time this just right too, or Todd, or J.J. would insist on coming with her, and she couldn’t have that. Finally, she deemed that it was now or never, and took the plunge.  
“Oh no!” she announced frantically. “I’ve forgotten my chalk board at home. I’ll have to run back and get it.”  
“You didn’t forget it,” Carol insisted. “I saw you with it, before we left the house.”  
“But I don’t have it!” Sally repeated, and opened up her hands to prove the point. “I won’t be long. I’ll just run back home and get it.”  
“But you’ll be late for class,” Todd told her. “You’ll end up getting detention.”  
“Better that, than a rap across my knuckles for forgetting my board.”  
Nodded agreements made the circuit.   
“I should go back with you,” J.J. commented, reluctantly. “Mama still doesn’t like any of us to be out on our own, just in case those Bairds come back.”  
“Oh don’t be silly!” Sally countered. “Then you would be late for class too. I won’t be but a minute!”  
And then she turned around and started running back the way they had just come. The group of children stood and watched her running away, still not so sure that it was a good idea. Before any of them could make up their minds however, Sally was around the corner and out of sight, and the decision was made for them.  
“Well, I guess it’s on her,” J.J. stated. “C’mon, or we’ll all be late.”  
Xxx  
Sally kept on running until she was around the corner. She ducked into a shop alcove and waited, just to be sure that none of her friends had followed her. She knew she was being disobedient and would probably get into real trouble when she did get home, but she couldn’t ignore the summons for help that was coming from the blue tic dog. She had made her choice, and making sure that her lunch was still tucked nicely away inside her coat, she dashed out onto the boardwalk again, and headed towards the pasture where her father kept their horses.  
Fanny spotted the child before any of the other horses did, and envisioning an apple with legs coming towards her, she nickered in anticipation and began walking towards the gate. Sally ran into the large covered lean-to where all the feed and tack was stored, and grabbing a halter and shank, she quickly went to the gate to secure her mare.  
Fanny was quite cooperative, other than constantly nuzzling and bumping the child with her nose, while Sally pulled the halter over the mare’s head and led her out of the pasture and into the shed. Once there, Sally dug into her pocket and pulled out the desired apple just as the soft copper nose moved in and snatched it out of her hands. With a loud crunch the mare bit into the fruit, allowing half of it to fall to the ground as she busied herself munching down her mouthful. That done, her head dropped and her sensitive muzzle soon found the rest of the juicy treat, and with slobber flowing, she quickly polished it off.  
In the meantime, Sally had retrieved her bridle from the peg and was trying to sort out which way was up as she returned to the mare. She thought briefly on trying to get a saddle on Fanny as well, but since she had never done that by herself before, she decided to forget about it. Getting the bridle on was going to be a challenge enough.  
Taking hold of the shank of the bit in one hand, she pulled Fanny’s head towards her with her other, and raised the bit up to where it pressed against the mare’s teeth. Fanny raised her head higher to look around, and was soon well out of the child’s reach. Sally sighed with frustration. Then, spying the stacks of hay, she led the mare over to them and positioned her in front of an opened bale that was on ground level. Fanny’s ears pricked and she instantly lowered her head, and set to munching.  
Once again, Sally maneuvered the bit so that it lined up with Fanny’s munching mouth, and she was able to get the metal bar in between the chewing teeth. Now came the next obstacle. Holding the bit in place with her right hand, Sally grabbed the leather headstall and began to pull and tug it over the horse’s ears. She managed to get it over one ear, but then Fanny raised her head and with a snort, gave it a shake, causing the headstall to come loose and fall down in front of her long face.  
Again Sally felt the frustration, but a least the bit was still in place and as soon as Fanny brought her head back down to eat hay, the child went after the challenge again. This time, she was a little faster, and getting the headstall over one ear, she deftly pushed it over the second ear before the mare could pull away. But Fanny had no intentions of pulling away at this point. She continued to chew on the hay as Sally fastened the throat latch and then pulled Fanny’s forelock out from under the leather, just as her papa had showed her how to do.   
There. That was done. She unclipped the lead shank and tossed in upon the hay bale, and turned again to face the mare. Now for the next step; getting on. She gathered up a rope for the dog, hitched up her skirt and coat, and contemplated her dilemma. Fanny stood quietly as the child attempted numerous different procedures to get herself onto the mare’s back. Backing Fanny up, so that she stood parallel to the stack of hay bales, proved to be the most effective, and Sally soon found herself astride the mare. Throughout the course of this awkward procedure, Fanny had behaved herself admirably and was quite pleased to continue munching hay while waiting for the child to get organized.  
Sally rode out of town then, without the knowledge or permission of the adults who were responsible for her, and went to the aide of the scared ranch dog, who had been abandoned.  
Xxx  
Lom and Wheat had dismounted and were searching the road for tracks left from the four animals. It hadn’t taken the posse long to get out past the Baird’s ranch road, and for quite a number of miles, the tracks made by the galloping horses and one mule had been as plain to see as a lantern on a clear night. But then the tracks had stopped. Somewhere along the route, the Bairds had turned off the road and headed cross-country, probably hoping that their trail would be lost.  
The posse had quickly returned to the last visible hoof mark, and here is where they stopped, as those who knew what to look for examined the ground for any signs of a new direction. Both men paced the road, heads bent and eyes on the soft dirt. Occasionally, one of them would stop and squat, and with gentle fingers, shift some of the pebbles in hopes of seeing a definite outline of a track.  
“Here,” Lom finally announced. “They turned off the road here and headed up the hill, towards those trees.”  
Wheat came over and surveyed the signs that Lom had pointed out. Then both men stood straight and scanned the hillside that was shrouded in trees and rockery.  
“Yep,” Wheat agreed. “About time, too. I would’a gotten off’a this road miles back. Amateurs.”  
“Uh huh,” Lom commented as he re-mounted. “They’re runnin’ scared now. No tellin’ what they might do, so be careful. One at a time, going up here; don’t bunch up. If they’re waitin’ in ambush, we don’t want ta’ give ‘em an easy target.”  
Some anxious looks passed between the other posse members. Volunteering to track down Sheriff Jacob’s assailants had been easy, when they were all standing around in town. But now, with the grey skies closing in and a definite dampness in the air, going after three desperate men through the back country took some of the heroics out of the endeavor.  
Still, they were all honest men and brave enough in their own right, so with Sam giving a good example by quickly falling into step behind the sheriff and the ex-outlaw, the posse turned off the road and headed up into the hills.  
Xxx  
Jed walked along the boardwalk with an aching in his heart that only grew stronger with each step he took. He had hoped that talking to David would help to ease both of their mournings, but it only seemed to make things worse. It was still too new, too raw, too unbelievable to be able to simply talk it out. Now Jed was placed into a position where he had to make his own difficult decision; would he tell Heyes and Miranda about the tragic event here at home? He wrestled with this dilemma all the way along his walk towards the telegraph office.  
Stepping into the office, he suddenly realized how chilly it had been outside. His thoughts had been so encompassing that he hadn’t noticed the dampness in the air, or the dark, overcast skies. He noticed them now though, and a fleeting thought of concern came into his thoughts about the posse that had left town earlier that morning. The man hunt could be over before it barely got started, if the rains began in earnest. It’s no fun being out on a trek when the weather turned cold and wet. He knew this from personal experience, and he and Heyes had always tried hard to avoid such an event. Still, things had not always been under their control and he had often marveled, albeit begrudgingly, at the tenacity of some posses who had refused to give up their quarries despite inclement weather.   
“Howdy there, Jed,” Clayt greeted his customer, though his tone was somber. “Sending a telegram?”  
Jed brought himself back to the present. “Yeah.”  
“There’s been a lot of that today,” Clayt informed him. “Joe was in here for almost an hour, sending out messages to our neighboring towns. Poor lad could hardly write them out, he was that distraught. Sad day for everyone.”  
“Yeah,” Jed repeated, and then made up his mind. It wasn’t going to be a sad day for everyone, not if he had anything to do with it. News like this could wait until Heyes and Miranda were back home.   
“Okay,” Clayt responded as he picked up his pencil and flattened out a piece of paper. “What do ya’ want to say?”  
“Ah, it’s goin’ to Red Rock Texas,” Jed informed him. “Pat McCreedy. Tell HH to contact me. ASAP. Curry.”  
Clayt cocked an eyebrow at him and then nodded as he wrote down the cryptic message. “Ya gonna tell him about this in a telegram?”  
“No Clayt, I ain’t,” Jed snarked, feeling irritated at the insinuation. “I gotta talk to him about somethin’ else. Is that okay with you?”  
Clayt cringed at the onslaught. “Sorry,” he apologized. “You’re right. None a’ my business.”  
Jed slumped. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just a bad mornin’, I guess. For everyone.”  
“Yeah, ya’ got that right. Okay, I’ll get this sent off right away. I’ll add it to your tab.”  
Jed nodded and left the office. He stopped right outside and took a deep breath. He felt lost and undecided about what to do next. Then he remembered what his plans had been for the day and decided that the best thing for him to do would be to carry on with that. The ranch did need to be checked up on, and so did his place, not to mention Sam’s. Beth and Belle had thought to join him on the ride out there, but now with the weather threatening unpleasantness, he wondered if it was a good idea.   
Perhaps the ladies should stay in town another day or two. Goodness knows, Jesse wasn’t ready for a trip like that. Jed recalled making that same trip into town while he was still recovering from the bullet wound. David had him pumped full of morphine, but it had still been an uncomfortable journey, and even though the end of it was a jail cell, he’d been relieved when they’d finally pulled up in front of the Sheriff’s office. It was not a trip to be taken lightly by an injured man, and Jesse was pretty beaten up.  
Xxx  
Red Rock. Texas  
Hannibal loosened the collar on his shirt and removed the bandana to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Miranda smiled at him, knowingly.  
“I told you, you would be too hot in that get up,” she teased. “Why don’t you change into your cottons before we get to Red Rock?”  
“I’ll be fine,” the male stubbornly insisted. “It’s just stuffy in here. Once we get off this train and into the fresh air, it’ll be more comfortable. “  
Yes, dear.”  
Throughout the next forty minutes, Heyes was finding the scenery becoming more and more familiar, as the train chugged its way towards Red Rock and then into the township itself. He smiled as he spied the saloon where he and the Kid had first encountered Big Mac. The establishment was one block up and a few buildings over from the train tracks, but whoever planned its construction had known what he was about. There was a clear view of the saloon billboard for all prospective customers arriving in town on the in-coming train.  
“What are you smiling about?” Miranda asked him. “What’s going on in that devious mind of yours?”  
“Devious?” Hannibal asked her, feigning insult. “I’m not always plotting and scheming, you know.”  
“No?” she responded, innocently. “Then you must be remembering something.”  
Hannibal’s smile deepened. “Yes, alright. You’ve got me there. I was just remembering our fortuitous first meeting with Big Mac McCreedy. As much as we tried to stay away from that man, the more ways he found to lure us back in. Money, mostly. Mac dangled that Ace under our noses every chance he got and it always seemed to work, too.”  
“You were that desperate for funds?”  
“Yes! Being an outlaw was a lot easier, and more financially rewarding, than going straight,” Hannibal told her. “I still don’t really know what kept us at it. Stubbornness, I guess. But Mac, he liked having Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry under his thumb, or thinking that he did. Try as he might to get out of paying us for a job, we usually found a way to convince him otherwise.”  
“Usually?”  
“Hmm. That first encounter with him did not end in our favor. Of course, it didn’t end in Mac’s favor either. Nope. Armendarez won that round. Actually, Armendarez pretty much won every round. But at least me and the Kid would get paid.”  
“I find your range of friends very interesting,” Randa admitted. “From outlaws and conmen to a Catholic nun, ex-outlaws turned lawmen, government officials and wealthy ranchers. They say that you can often judge a man’s character by the company he keeps, but you don’t seem to fit in anywhere.”  
“I’m very complex,” her husband informed her with a cheeky grin. “I like to keep the outside world guessing.”  
“Yes,” Miranda agreed as her gaze turned to view out the window. “You certainly manage to do that.”  
Heyes frowned at what he imagined was a disapproving tone, but before he could enquire, the train’s whistle sounded loudly as the engine entered the depot area, and the whole conveyance slowly came to a halt.  
The voice of the porter making his way through the passenger cars as he announced their destination, was coming closer and closer to their cabin. Heyes let the matter drop and stood up to get their items organized to disembark.   
“Oh, finally,” Miranda said with a sigh, her travel weariness showing in her eyes. “I’m so looking forward to spending a few days in a room that isn’t on the move.”  
“Me too,” he agreed. “Mrs. McCreedy is a fine hostess. If Mac hasn’t dreamed up some scheme for me to help him out with, we should have a relaxing stay.”  
Xxx  
Brookswood, Colorado  
Jed slipped the halter over Gov’s head and began to lead him out of the pasture when it suddenly struck him that something was amiss. He frowned as he pulled his gelding out through the gate and then swung the contraption closed. He latched the bolt as he took a quick look around at the small herd of family horses as they casually grazed or dozed within their comfortable surroundings.  
Jed couldn’t see it at first, but his instincts were telling him that something was wrong. With nothing else to go on, he began to count the horses inside the paddock, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized that they were one short. He did a second scan of who was there and compared it with his list of who should be there and then bit his lower lip in consternation.  
After leading Gov into the lean-to, the first thing Jed saw was Fanny’s lead shank unceremoniously dumped on top of the hay bale. He cursed under his breath as he quickly got his gelding tacked up. Walking back out to the paddock gate, he studied the wet dirt around that area and soon found what he’d been looking for; a small, child size foot print accompanied by the round, platter shaped hoof mark that he knew belonged to Fanny. With another quiet curse, he mounted, and turning the horse’s head back into the main part of town, he pushed the gelding into a lope and made a bee-line towards Heyes’ place.   
It only took him a few minutes to make the trip, and coming to a quick stop at the porch, he swung down, tired Gov to the railing and came up the steps, three at a time.  
“Beth!” he called as he pushed through the front door and came into the kitchen. “Beth! Are you here?”  
“Yes!” came the slightly irritated response from the main bedroom. This was soon followed by the woman herself, with T.J. accompanying her. “Why all the fuss? I’m almost ready to go and so is Mama. All we have to do is get Monty hitched up and we’ll be ready.”  
“Change of plans,” Jed informed her, as he busied himself grabbing some basic supplies from the kitchen cupboards. “Fanny’s missing from the paddock. I think Sally has gone off somewhere.”  
Beth’s brows went up. “What? But she’s in school. Mama saw her off, herself.”  
“That may be, but she ain’t in school now,” Jed countered as he grabbed his saddlebags from the closet in the mud room and took his rifle down from the hooks above the coat rack. “There’s a clear set of tracks leadin’ out’a town. She’s got a good head start on me, but if I move quickly, I should catch up with her before she gets much further.”  
“But where would she be going?” Beth asked, more to herself than to anyone else. T.J. answered her, but was completely misunderstood. Beth bobbed him on her hip to settle him.  
“I have no idea,” Jed admitted as he packed supplies into his bags. “I could be gone a couple ‘a hours or a couple ‘a days. She might just be playin’ hooky and already be on her way home. I donno. But now is not the time for any of the young’uns to be out by themselves.”  
“Yes, alright,” Beth agreed as she wrapped herself in her warm shawl. “I’ll go and tell Mama, and then we’ll check the school and see if she showed up at all today. Maybe the other children will have some ideas.”  
“Yeah,” Jed approved as they both headed out the front door. “And you better let Joe know about this. For one thing, he’ll need to know that he’s got the town on his own for now. Hopefully I won’t be gone long.”  
“Do you really think the Bairds would try anything like this?” Beth asked, her face and her tone betraying her worry.  
“I donno darlin’,” Jed admitted, and he paused long enough to give his wife and his son reassuring kisses. I hope not. It’d be real stupid. But let’s face it; none of that family can be credited with havin’ much brains.”  
“Oh dear…”  
Jed got his gear secured to the saddle and mounted up. Gov pranced in his anxiety to get going. He knew something was up, and he didn’t see the point of wasting time.  
Jed reached down and cupped his wife’s face in his hand. “Try not to worry, darlin’,” he said, though without much conviction. “Hopefully it’s nothin’, and she’ll be comin’ home to a hide tannin’ for scarin’ everybody with her shenanigans.”   
“Yes…”  
Jed gave Gov the signal, and the horse pivoted on his hind quarters and was away at a gallop, heading back out of town.  
Beth stood for a moment, biting her lower lip in worry as she watched him leave. Thaddeus gurgled and laughed as he attempted to wave goodbye to his departing father.  
Xxx  
Sally kept her mare at a steady jog all the way out of town and onto the cross-country road that led past many of the trailheads leading to the ranches that scattered their way among the countryside. She was pretty sure that she knew which one of those branches would lead her to the Baird’s property, and trusting her instincts, she pushed Fanny onwards, taking them further and further away from the outskirts of town.  
As things turned out, she need not have worried about missing the turn-off as the entrance to the property had a large overhead sign across the access road that quite clearly stated the name of the owners. Sally smiled as she pulled up and then gave her mare a pat on the neck, as though Fanny had had something to do with their good fortune. Sally turned the mare’s head and giving her a nudge, they trotted down the dirt road towards the run-down house and dull looking barn.  
The place seemed unusually quiet, even to the child’s expectations of what an empty ranch yard should sound like. There weren’t even any chickens in the yard, or even in the coop for that matter. She had certainly expected to see chickens and a cat or two. And no barking dog? Where was the dog? A twinge of fear clutched at her heart as the thought struck her that perhaps the dog had already run off, or maybe someone had come and stolen it. The fact that this was her intention never even played in to her brand of logic.  
She brought the mare up to the doors of the barn and then slid awkwardly to the ground. She felt uneasy about this place. It was so quiet; not even barn swallows were sounding off the alarm, and every barn had barn swallows. She looked around at her surroundings and then gazed into the dusty mustiness of the old barn itself.  
“Hello!” she called and frowned at how small and nervous her voice sounded. She tried again with a little more gusto. “Hello! Dog, are you in here?”  
She listened intently, but there was no response. She whistled, just like her papa had showed her how to do. Nothing. She gathered up her courage and started to walk into the barn, but Fanny had planted her feet and didn’t seem all too keen on following her young mistress.  
“Come on,” Sally encouraged the mare as she tugged on the reins. “It’s alright. I don’t think there’s anybody here anyways. Come on.” She clucked and tugged some more, and Fanny finally decided that it would be alright. She lowered her head and followed the child into the dimly lit interior.  
The barn smelled old and mildewy; nothing like the clean freshness of her grandpa’s barns. She loved going into those barns, with the sweet fragrance of hay and straw filling her senses. The swallows were happy in those barns, and they kept up a continuous song throughout the day that boosted the spirits and made one want to whistle along with their gaiety.  
But that was not the case with this barn. This barn was filled with bad feelings. She knew it wasn’t haunted because she could tell when a place was haunted and there were no restless ghosts lingering here. But that didn’t make the barn itself any more welcoming and it was only her conviction that the dog was here and needed help, that kept her inside the structure.  
She whistled again and tried to peer into the darker shadows of the corners to see if she could make out any shapes in there.  
“Humph,” she huffed. Obviously if the dog was in here, he wasn’t about to come out from hiding.  
She led Fanny over a hitching ring and tied her there, then she unbuttoned her coat and pulled out the meat sandwich that had been made for her lunch. Seeing it now, and smelling the tasty roasted beef, she realized that she was getting hungry and took a big bite out of it for herself. Munching contentedly, she made her way deeper into the barn and began to look for the dog in ernest.  
“Here dog!” she mumbled over her mouthful. “I’ve got a really good sandwich for you. Come and get it, or I’ll eat it all myself. Come on, dog, come on, boy.”  
Nothing. Finally giving up on her efforts, she plunked down on a bench and contemplated taking another bite for herself. She was undecided for less than a second and was soon munching on her second mouthful. It was then, when she wasn’t looking for him, that she saw him. At first, it was just a hint of a shape in the shadows, then she caught the bright glint of hopeful eyes and a pink tongue darting out to stem the flow of drool. Somebody was hungry.  
“Hello there,” Sally greeted him quietly. “Would you like some of this?”  
She quietly slid herself off the bench and settled onto her knees in the straw. She tore off a piece of the sandwich and held it out towards the dog, hoping that the animal would come forward. Unfortunately, he did the opposite and with an anxious whine, the canine turned and retreated back into the musky shadows.  
“No. Don’t go away,” Sally called after him. “It’s alright. Come and eat.”  
Whether the dog understood English or not is uncertain, but within a moment, Sally saw the bright eyes and the glistening nose come into view again.  
“Come on,” she encouraged him. “Don’t be scared. Here.” And she gently tossed the morsel of beef and bread to where it landed right in front of the hungry gaze.  
The eyes darted to the meat, then back to the child, then down at the meat, then back to the child. Then the decision was made. The dog slinked out from its hiding place and gobbled down the food.  
“Good dog,” Sally praised him. “Here, you want some more?”  
Eager eyes looked up and followed the projectory of the offering as it left the child’s hand and soared through the air, to plop down into the straw right at the dog’s feet. He pounced on it as though it were a live mouse, and instantly gulped it down.  
“If you want some more,” Sally informed him. “you’ll have to come and get it.”  
There was no hesitation this time. Slinking in a submissive manner, but with tail wagging and teeth bared in a joyful smile, the blue tic dog trotted over and accepted the offering.  
“Good boy,” she praised him again, as she patted him and scratched his ears.  
The dog smiled up at her, and with his body convulsing in uncharacteristic puppy wiggles, he licked her face and her hands in enthusiastic gratitude. Sally giggled and reciprocated with more scratches and an impromptu belly rub.  
“Come on,” she said as she clambered to her feet. “Let’s get you out of here and back home to a real supper.”  
She frowned slightly as she uncoiled the rope from around her shoulders and dropped the loop over the dog’s head. Now that her mission had been accomplished, the reality of what her welcome home was likely to be, had come back to haunt her. She was going to be in big trouble. Not only had she skipped school, but she had gone off alone, without permission and had likely caused her family no end of worry.  
The dog looked up at her, concerned over the sudden change of mood. Seeing his consternation, Sally pushed the negative thoughts away and smiled down at him.  
“Never mind,” she assured him. “One thing at a time. Come on, let’s go.”  
She walked over to Fanny and untied the reins in preparation of leaving that dreary barn, when all three of them froze and came to attention. Two horses with riders came trotting into the yard, and carrying on past the barn doors, they stopped by the front of the house. Sally didn’t know what to do. She really wasn’t supposed to be here, and she recognized the woman on one of the horses as Isabelle’s sister, Courtney. Sally never liked that woman and had always done her best to stay away from her, and since Courtney spent much of her time visiting with her mother’s sister on the other side of the county, this wasn’t generally hard to do. But now, it could prove to be a challenge.  
Sally glanced down at the dog and noticed that instead of being happy to see one of his humans returning home, his whole body had stiffened and his hackles rose. A quiet, menacing growl left his throat.  
“Quiet,” Sally whispered. “We don’t want them to hear us.”  
The dog glanced up at her and responded with a brief wag of its tail, then its stance returned to guarded, and the hackles never relaxed.  
From where they stood, Sally could hear the creaking of leather and the jangling of bits as the man and the woman dismounted. The child could hear them talking, but try as she might, she could not make out their words. Courtney sounded anxious and maybe a little irritated, and the man was obviously trying to reassure her.  
Sally’s curiosity soon over-came her fear, and quietly stepping forward, she stealthily made her way to the entrance of the barn. The dog came with her, stiff-legged and silent while Fanny wisely chose to stay where she was to watch the proceedings from the dimness of the barn’s interior. She hadn’t lived to be an old brood mare without having learned a thing or two about caution.  
Still staying hidden behind the door, Sally strained her ears to try and pick up what was being said out in the yard.  
“Wait here,” Courtney’s clipped tones weren’t hard to pick up, now that Sally was closer. “I have the money in the house. I’ll be right back.”  
“You better be,” the man’s deeper voice responded. “It’s already noon and it’s gonna take all afternoon for me to get to where I’m goin’.”  
“I know where Deke’s Canyon is, and you can get there in two hours if you don’t drag your butt,” Courtney snarked back. “Just wait here.”  
“My, what language for a young lady,” the man admonished her. “What would your Pa think?”  
“It’s my Pa that taught me!” came the response, though the voice had faded, suggesting that the speaker had gone indoors.  
For a few moments all was quiet except for the occasional stamping of a hoof, or snort from one of the horses. Fanny’s ears pricked at the sound, but she stayed quiet.  
Light footfalls on wood suggested that Courtney had returned, and the conversation picked up again.  
“Here,” she said. “Five hundred dollars, and I want you to sign this.”  
“Sign that?” Came the protest. “What for?”  
“I’m handing over all the money I got in this world,” Courtney pointed out. “If you think you’re just going to ride out of here, Luke Shuster, without signing that you received it, you have another thing coming.”  
“I told ya’ I was gonna deliver this money to your Pa, and I meant it,” Luke reminded her. “What’s the matter, don’t you trust me?”  
“I don’t trust anybody,” Courtney told him.  
“Look, you’re not even gonna pay me for the job until you get word from your Pa that you got the money!” Luke complained. “Ain’t that good enough for you?”  
“Five hundred dollars is a far sight more than fifty,” Courtney pointed out. “I want something in writing.”  
“Or what?” Luke questioned her. “You gonna go to that deputy and complain that I ain’t holdin’ up my end of our little deal?” Luke laughed, obviously aware that he had her over a barrel. “I ain’t puttin’ my name on anything. Your Pa trusts me, now either you do as well, or this deal is off.”  
“Ohhh! Fine!” Courtney sounded frustrated and angry, and Sally could clearly envision her stamping her foot in the moist dirt. “Have it your way! But if my Pa never gets this money…”  
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”  
The sounds of movement in the yard suggested that the meeting was over. One of the horses spooked and then snorted with concern, and Fanny lifted her head and sent out an answering whinny.   
All three humans snapped their attention towards the direction of the unexpected sound.  
“What was that?” Courtney asked in her alarm.  
“Who’s in there!” Luke challenged the interloper. “Come on out’a there, or I’ll come in shooting!”  
The dog’s hackles rose even more and this time, his growl was full throated and menacing. The pitch of it rose with the animal’s alarm as the man ignored the threat and strode quickly over to the hiding place. Sally gasped and tried to back away, but Luke was there in an instant and grabbed her by the arm before she could will her feet to run.  
The dog snarled furiously and grabbed at the man’s ankles, but Luke swung a kick at the dog that missed, but still sent the animal scurrying out of the way. He gathered his wits and came at the man again, all prepared to protect his new friend, but a command stopped him in his tracks.  
“Blu!” Courtney yelled. “Stop it! What do you think you’re doing? Lie down and be quiet. Behave yourself.”  
Blu cringed and sank to the ground, a guilty and worried expression taking over his face. He had no love for this human, but she was part of his pack and he had to listen to her.  
Luke ignored the dog as he pulled Sally out from the protection of the barn.  
“Who are you?” he demanded to know. “What do you think you were doing in there?”  
“Nothing!” Sally insisted as she fought frightened tears. “I just came out to feed the dog.”  
“Why?” Courtney asked her. “He’s not your dog.”  
“He was calling to me,” Sally insisted. “He was hungry.”  
“If that’s all you were doing, why didn’t you come out when we arrived?” Courtney continued. “Why did you hide in there?”  
“I don’t know,” Sally whimpered. “I was scared.”  
“Scared, huh?” Luke repeated with a menacing tone. “Eavesdropping, more like it. How much did you over-hear?”  
“Nothing,” the child insisted. “I couldn’t hear anything.”  
Luke roughly shook her. “Don’t give me that! What did you over-hear?”  
“Nothing!” she repeated, and then broke down into real tears.  
Blu’s hackles rose again, and he growled.  
“Blu!” Courtney yelled at him. “Quiet!”  
Blu cringed and nervously licked his lips, but he never took his piercing gaze off of the man before him.  
“Oh, Christ! This is all I need!” Luke complained. “It’s gonna take long enough for me to get to Deke’s canyon, without this crap going on. Your Pa is only gonna wait for me for so long, ya’ know!”  
Courtney sighed and gave Luke a disdainful look. “I tell you, I grew up in a household full of dull-headed men, and I have yet to meet any man who has proven to be any different.”  
“What do ya’ mean?”  
“Dammit, Luke! You just went ahead and told her everything she needs to know,” Courtney pointed out. “So even if she hadn’t heard what we had been talking about, you remedied that real quick.”  
“Ah, crap!”  
The two adults stared down at the child, wondering what on earth they were going to do with her. Sally gazed back at them, tears rolling down her cheeks, as she wondered the same thing.  
“What are we gonna do with her?” Luke continued. “We can’t just let her go.”  
“I won’t tell anybody, honest,” Sally promised.  
Neither adult paid her any mind.  
“No, we can’t,” Courtney agreed with Luke’s statement.  
“We could tie her up, and leave her in the barn.”  
“Oh right!” Courtney snarked at him. “How’s that going to look? Them finding her tied up out here on my place? No. You’re going to have to take her with you.”  
“What?! I’m not taking some snot nosed little kid with me,” Luke protested. “What am I supposed to do with her?”  
“How should I know? But it was your big mouth that got us into this, so you can deal with it,” Courtney informed him. “Maybe you can hand her over to my Pa. If they get cornered, they could use her as a bargaining tool.”  
“What makes you think that anybody is gonna care about her?”  
“Her parents are going to, aren’t they?” Courtney reasoned. “For all we know, maybe her Pa’s in that posse they sent out. You don’t think that would be a good bargaining chip to have?”  
“Yeah, I suppose. But who is she?”  
Courtney shrugged. “How should I know? What’s your name, kid?”  
“Sally,” answered a tiny voice. She wasn’t sure if she should be giving out this information.  
“Sally what?” Courtney asked, already feeling exasperated with this little person.  
“Sally Heyes.”  
The silence was so heavy birds could have fallen from the sky.  
“Heyes?” Courtney finally asked.  
Sally nodded.  
“Oh no,” Luke shook his head. “No, no, no. There is no way I want an angry Hannibal Heyes on my trail. That man is devious. I’d be looking over my shoulder until the day I die. Forget it.”  
“Fine,” Courtney told him. “Then kill her, and we’ll dump the body down the well.”  
“What!? Are you mad? I’m not killin’ some little kid, especially Heyes’ kid.”  
“Well what alternatives do we have?” Courtney asked him. “Which would you prefer; kill her or take her with you?”  
“You could let me go home,” Sally suggested hopefully. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”  
Again, the child’s plea was ignored.  
“Fuck!” Luke cursed as he paced back and forth, hands on hips, and chewed his lip in consternation. “Alright, fine! I’ll take her with me. Maybe your Pa will need some leverage after all. Where’s her damn horse?”  
In answer to his own question, he strode into the barn and soon returned with Fanny in tow.  
“Where’s your damn saddle?” he asked her. “I can hardly tie ya’ to the saddle horn, if ya’ don’t have a saddle.”  
“I don’t know how to put one on,” Sally explained. “They’re too heavy for me.”  
“Oh for Christ’s sake!”  
“Stop your damn cursing!” Courtney told him. “It’s unbecoming. Check in the barn. There’s a room in the back for saddles and what-not. I’m sure you’ll find one in there.”  
Luke turned the mare around and headed back into the barn.   
Sally stood stock still, fighting tears and wondering how she was going to get out of this mess. Her papa was going to be so mad at her. She thought about running away from these people, but the knowledge that one of them would probably shoot her if she did, rooted her feet to the spot. Besides, her legs were so wobbly with fear, they probably wouldn’t work properly anyway.  
“Are you going to take your dog with you when you leave?” she finally asked, just to have something to say.  
“What?” Courtney stared at her and then glanced over at the dog as though it was the first time she had seen it. “No, I’m not taking the dog with me. It’s a ranch dog, it would be a nuisance to have in town.”  
“What are you going to do with him?”  
“I’ll tie him to the porch,” Courtney answered, looking pleased with herself for coming up with a solution.  
“You can’t do that!” Sally protested, her concern for the animal over-ruling her fear for herself. “You can’t just tie him up and leave him. What if coyotes come, or a cougar? He’d be defenseless.”  
“He can get under the porch. He’ll be fine.”  
“But you can’t leave him here alone! He’s got nobody to look after him!”  
“Look! I’ll come out once a day and feed him, alright? That is if I remember.”  
“But…”  
“Forget about the dog!” Courtney ordered her, and then walking over to the animal, she picked up the length of rope and headed back towards the porch. “Come on, Blu. You’ll be fine, right here.”  
Blu reluctantly got to his feet and slinked after his mistress. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was back to being scared again. He had a feeling that his troubles weren’t over yet.  
Luke came back out of the barn, leading Fanny. He had found an old dusty saddle in the back room, and throwing an old holey blanket onto the mare’s back, had flung the saddle up on top of it, and cinched it tight. Fanny didn’t like it right from the start. It pinched in all the wrong places and the girth was so stiff, if was chaffing her belly just in the short walk from the barn into the sunlight.  
“C’mon you,” Luke said as he grabbed Sally under her arms and hoisted her off her feet. “Up you go.”  
“No!” Sally protested. “I don’t want to go with you! No! My papa will be mad at you.”  
“Yeah, well he’s gonna have to find me first,” Luke told her. “Now stop your bellyachin’. Ya gotta admit that this is better than the alternative.”  
Taking some baling twine he’d found in the barn, Luke quickly bound the little hands together and then tied them securely to the saddle horn.  
“There,” he said. “Now be quiet, or I’ll stuff a gag in your mouth as well. You don’t want that do you?”  
Sally silently looked down at him, tears once again streaking her cheeks. She shook her head; no she didn’t want that.  
“Good. It seems we’ve come to an agreement. If all goes well, I’ll be rid of you in a couple of hours.”  
Picking up the mare’s reins, Luke walked over to his own horse and inadvertently got within range of the tired up dog. Blu, not liking how his little friend was being treated, lunged out at the man, snarling and raging, as he grabbed an ankle.  
“Owe!” Luke complained as the dog tore into him. “Get this damn dog off’a me!”  
“Blu! Blu, stop it!” Courtney ordered, but this time, the dog ignored her.  
Blu had a good hold on that ankle and he wasn’t about to let it go. He dug in deep and began shaking his head and snarling as though he had a rat between his jaws. Luke swatted at him with his hat, until he lost his balance and went down with a splat onto the wet ground. Blu took advantage, and letting go his grip just for an instance, he lunged again and felt his teeth sink into the soft flesh of an unprotected calf.  
Luke yowled and began punching at the dog as the three horses nervously danced away from the onslaught. Courtney ran in to assist by grabbing at the dog and trying to pull him off the man, but Blu would not let go, and he refused to listen to his mistress’ commands. He snarled and snapped and drew blood, and he no longer cared about the consequences.  
The three horses were in an uproar. Two of them were tethered and could do nothing more than jump around and bang into each other, causing them to become even more distressed. They pulled back against their restraints, and bucked and kicked and carried on, but to no avail; they could not break free.  
Fanny, on the other hand, was loose. At the first sign of trouble, she pivoted and powered up to a full gallop within seconds. She knew where home was and decided for herself, that it was time they were going back there.  
“Stop that horse!” Luke yelled in between the snarlings. “Stop her!”  
Courtney looked up just in time to see the copper mare pivot and make a run for it. She let go of the dog and dashed after the horse, yelling and swinging her arms to try and stop her.  
“Whoa!” she yelled, as though that would do any good. “No! Stop!”  
She made a grab for the flying reins and actually managed to get hold of one, but the momentum of the mare wasn’t to be stopped that easily. Courtney found herself being yanked off her feet, and the last thing she saw before landing face first in the mud, was a pair of frightened brown eyes, and a little girl’s long red hair flying out behind her as the pair made their escape.  
Luke cursed some more, and still kicking and striking at the dog, he finally managed to drag himself out of the animal’s reach. His lower left trouser leg was ripped to shreds and blood oozed out from the numerous bite wounds that had punctured into the flesh.  
“You goddam, fucking mongrel!” he shouted, and without hesitating, he pulled his colt .45 and took his shot.  
Blu yelped, but more in fear than pain. He felt the bullet burn into the scruff of his neck, but the projectile carried on through and ended up burying itself in one of the porch steps. It had also severed the rope that had been encircling Blu’s neck, and the dog, realizing it was free, snarled and made another lunge for this man who deserved no mercy.  
“Blu!” Sally called, as her mare sped her further and further away from the scene. “Blu! Come on boy!”  
Blu’s ears pricked and the light of hope took over from the darkness in his eyes. Luke was still trying to get to his feet as well as get another shot off, but he wasn’t fast enough. Blu lunged and landed squarely on Luke’s chest, knocking him flat and sending the six-gun flying. Digging in his hind claws, the dog used the human as a launching pad, and leaping over the man’s head, he ran after his new friend, barking joyfully and ignoring the curses coming from his previous mistress.  
Courtney came back to Luke to try and help him to his feet, but he was in a furious rage. He scrambled upright on his own, and pushed her away from him. He nearly fell again as he tried to put weight on his injured limb, but he was able to grab the post by the porch and stay on his feet. He was cursing a blue streak as blood pooled around his boot.  
“What are we going to do!?” Courtney wailed. “She’ll raise the alarm! You have to get after her!”  
“Forget it!” Luke yelled at her. “I’m out’a here!”  
“But what about the money to my pa!”  
“Here!” Luke dug into his inside pocket and brought out the brown paper packet. “You take it!”  
“I can’t ride up there on my own! You have to take it!”  
“Forget it lady! I don’t care what your pa figures I owe him, but I’m goin’!”  
And to prove he meant it, he stumbled over to his jittery horse and attempted to untie the reins. Unfortunately, the horse had pulled back so strongly against the tethering, that the knot was seized shut and wasn’t about to be undone.  
Luke was almost pulling his hair out in his pain and frustration. He worked and worked at that knot, but to no avail. His horse, already wound up and fit to burst, could sense the anger in the human and thus became even more fidgety. He fretted and jerked against the rein, making the whole situation worse and causing Luke to exude even more cursing.  
He frantically looked around him, hoping to find some solution to this problem, and much to his surprise, he actually did. Snatching up the piece of rope that had secured the dog, he took out his knife and cut a length of it off of the whole. He then cut the offending rein off the bridle and tied the makeshift one onto the bit in its place.  
The horse, realizing it was free, danced backwards and tried to spin away from the angry human. But Luke had been expecting that and made sure he had a good hold on the animal before cutting it free of the hitching rail. The horse circled around him, head high and eyes rolling white with fear, keeping himself as far away from this human as the length of rein would let him.  
“Whoa!” Luke yelled at the horse and hopped after it, trying to get a hold of the saddle horn. “Stand still, ya mangy creature!”  
He reeled the horse in, like a fish on a line, until his hand was right up beside the shank of the bit. He turned the horse’s head in, towards him, but the animal kept on circling in its efforts to avoid this person who had a hold of him. Luke cursed again as the two of them kept hopping around in circles until finally, Luke was able to grab hold of the cheek strap of the bridle with his left hand, and then the saddle horn with his right. He somehow managed to get a foot in the stirrup, and pulling the horse’s head all the way around to its withers, Luke hauled himself up into the saddle.  
But the horse continued to circle and fight against the hold on its head. Luke was so unbalanced in the saddle that he forgot to let go of the bridle, and pulling the horse off balance as well, the two of them toppled over in a tangle of kicking legs and loud curses.  
The horse snorted with indignation, but finally finding its head free, it quickly righted itself and getting the hind legs underneath him, he heaved himself back onto his feet. Unfortunately for the equine, Luke continued to hold on to the saddle horn and was able to hang on and come back up with the horse. The animal stood there for a moment, legs splayed, and mane tussled, wondering what was going to happen next.  
Luke gathered up the reins and turning the horse’s head towards the back acreage, he began to boot the animal to get it to move forward. The horse was so disoriented, that he reared instead, but Luke held on and finally convinced the horse to move forward. They trotted through the yard and were heading around the side of the house with Courtney running after him and yelling.  
“You can’t just ride off!” she screamed. “I hired you to do a job!”  
“Yeah, a job that you haven’t paid me for yet,” Luke reminded her. “Good luck with it. Bye!”  
Luke gave the horse another boot with his heels and an awkward lope was achieved as the pair headed up into the hills.  
Courtney stamped her foot in frustration. She turned to look at her horse who was still standing tied to the hitching rail and was now cautiously gazing back at her. This had been a crazy morning and the one remaining horse wasn’t sure what to expect. She stood with head up and nostrils flaring as the crazy woman hurried towards her. She snorted and thought about ducking away, but realized that she was still tied and couldn’t go anywhere.  
At this point, Courtney at least showed more common sense than her hired hand had done. She slowed to a walk and spoke quietly to the mare. She approached the quivering animal and gently stroked her neck, until the mare blew out a snort of relief and calmed down.  
Courtney, taking the example from Luke, gathered up the last length of rope from the ground and tied the end of it to the shank of the bit. Looking around, she spied the wood axe over by the chopping block and quickly retrieved it. It was heavier than she imagined, but she was determined not to be left behind, and, much to the mare’s consternation, she hefted the chopper and brought the blade down to embed itself into the wood of the hitching rail.  
The mare pulled back and what little bit of leather that hadn’t be caught by the blade, broke under the pressure and the mare was free. Courtney dropped the axe and grabbed the reins all in one swift motion. Being an accomplished horsewoman, she lightly stepped into the saddle, and turning the mare in the same direction that Luke had taken, the pair took off at a gallop towards the back country.  
Xxx  
Jed hurried Gov along the main road as quickly as he could under the circumstances. He wanted to catch up with Sally, but he didn’t want to take the chance of missing any tell-tail signs of her turning off the roadway. He didn’t think it likely that she would ride off into the hills, but then again, is wasn’t like her to skip school and ride off on her own without permission, either. He had no idea what she was up to, so he didn’t want to simply assume that she would do the predictable. She might not be Heyes’ daughter by blood, but she was a quick study.  
As much as it begrudged him to stop every time they came to a section in the road where a rider could turn off, Jed would pull up and dismount to study the ground. Every time, he’d still find Fanny’s platter shaped hoof print heading along the main road and keeping to what looked like a steady trot. Sally was going somewhere with a purpose, but Jed couldn’t imagine what it could be.  
He had Gov going forward at a ground covering lope, when the sound of a gunshot froze his blood. Instinctive reaction caused him to jerked his horse to a halt and pull his own revolver all within the same fluid, split second motion. He looked towards the sound of the shot and a dread settled over him as he realized that it had seemed to come from the Baird’s property.  
Had the Bairds actually returned? Had Sally gone there for some reason, and was now mixed up in the goings-on of that strange and now dangerous family? He gave Gov his head and with barely a touch from his rider’s heel, the young gelding dug in and took off at a gallop.  
They were still a fair distance from the Baird’s property when Jed spotted a horse and rider coming towards them. Jed squinted, keeping his eyes glued to the pair until, with a sense of relief, he recognized Fanny and assumed that the small figure upon her back must be Sally. But then concern invaded his thoughts again, as he realized the mare was galloping hard and fast towards him. Too hard and fast for Sally to be in control of her.  
He pulled Gov up to wait for the run-away to get closer to them. As they did get closer, he could see the terror in the eyes of both the horse and the girl, and he knew that he had to stop them before either of them got injured. He positioned Gov across the road and tried to block the mare from carrying on, but it looked like Fanny was in such a blind rush, that she was going run right through them in her effort to get away from whatever had caused the panic.  
“Whoa, Fanny! Whoa!” Jed called out as he waved his arms in the air. “Sally! Pull her head around!”  
He saw the mare’s focus turn from blind panic to recognition of movement and a familiar voice, but she still wasn’t prepared to stop. Why was Sally not doing anything? Was she that panicked by being on a run-away? There wasn’t time to question the situation. Jed pushed Gov out into the path of the mare, and even though Fanny, in recognition of a familiar voice and a herd-mate, was already putting the brakes on, the two horses collided.  
Fortunately, Gov was a solid gelding, and much younger and stronger than the geriatric brood mare, so he kept his feet and successfully blocked the mare from carrying on. Jed reached out and grabbed the reins and between him and his stalwart gelding, they were able to pull Fanny into a circle and get her stopped.  
“Sally!” Jed called to the child. “Are you alright? What’s happened?”  
“No, no!” Sally cried. “Don’t let them take me!”  
“Nobody’s gonna take ya’, Darlin’,” Jed assured her, but then he noticed her small hands tied to the saddle horn. “What the hell? Whoa, whoa, Fanny. Settle down. Sally, what happened?”  
“They were going to take me!” Sally cried. “I just went out there to feed the dog, and they were going to take me!!”  
“Shh, shh, Darlin’,” Jed tried to reassure her. “You’re safe now, Sweetheart. And I see you got yourself a friend there.”  
“Yeah,” Sally agreed through her sobs. “This is Blu. He helped me get away.”  
“Get away from who?” Jed asked, as he pulled out his knife and cut the binding twine that bound her hands to the saddle horn. “Who did this to you?”  
“It was Miss Baird, and…and…some man!” Sally cried. “He was going to take me!”  
“Take you where?”  
But Sally started crying again, and she, Fanny, and Blu kept looking anxiously over their shoulders as though in expectation of some demon whisking down upon them from the distant horizon. Jed followed their anxious gazes and was feeling torn over what his next move should be. Obviously, Courtney Baird and some unknown man had been up to something, and Sally had inadvertently stumbled into the path of a nefarious plan.   
Jed’s anger seethed, and the first thing he wanted to do was to ride on to the Baird’s ranch and track down those responsible to treating Sally this way. But the child beside him was terrified, and he knew that he could not leave her to carry on home by herself. This was a fine pickle, but he had no choice.  
“C’mon, Darlin’,” he said, as he lifted Sally from Fanny’s back, and set her on his lap, behind the pommel. “I’ll get you home.”  
“Grandma’s gonna be mad at me,” Sally sniffled between her sobs. “I ran off without permission.”  
“Yeah, ya’ did,” Jed agreed. “You got a lot of people worried about ya.”  
“I know,” Sally admitted. “But Blu was calling me. He needed help.”  
Jed made no response as he gathered up Fanny’s reins and settled both horses into a lope towards home. The dog in question followed along with the group as though that were his rightful place, and somehow, Jed felt that it was beyond him to deny it.  
Xxx  
“Oh, thank God!” Belle praised, as she ran down the steps and carried on towards the small party. “Thaddeus, you found her! Thank goodness!”  
“Yes, ma’am,” Jed agreed as he signaled Gov to stop. “And she’s got quite a story to tell, too.”  
“Grandma! Grandma, you won’t believe what happened!” Sally insisted as Jed picked up under the arms and assisted her back down to the ground. “I was nearly kidnapped!”  
“What?” Belle’s eyes widened with the fear of that occurrence, and sent a demanding look to Jed for more information.  
“Yeah, it seems so,” Jed concurred. “But I don’t have time to fill ya’ in. I’ll leave that to Sally. I gotta go find Joe. Tell Beth that I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  
Sally was tugging on Belle’s shirt sleeve and jumping up and down in her anticipation of telling her story. The terror of her recent predicament was gone now that she was safe within the bosom of her family, and she was bubbling over with enthusiasm to let everyone know how brave she had been.  
“Oh, my goodness,” Belle mumbled as the child began pulling her towards the steps. “You better have a good explanation for causing us all so much worry. You are this close to being grounded, young lady.”  
“Yes, but not after I tell you what happened,” Sally insisted. “And Blu saved me.”  
“Where in the world did that dog come from?” Belle exclaimed as she noticed the hound trotting up the steps of the house. “No, no! No dogs in the house!”  
“Sally!” Jed called as he was heading away. “Take care of your horse!”  
Sally stopped in her tracks and looked back at poor Fanny, who had been left standing in the middle of the street with no one paying her any mind.  
“Oh!” Sally broke away from her grandma, and running back to her horse, she led the mare over to the hitching rail and tired her there. Giving the animal a pat on the neck, she turned and ran back up the stairs, where Belle was busy trying to get the dog out of the front alcove.  
Xxx  
Jed carried on and headed straight for the sheriff’s office. He wasn’t sure if Joe would be there, but that seemed like the best place to start. He pulled up at the railing, jumped down and hurried into the office, inadvertently slamming the front door open in his haste.  
Joe and two young fellas who were deputy trainees, were standing around the desk, looking over a map when all three of them jumped at the sudden entrance.  
“Joe!” Jed began, “I got a lead, but we gotta move fast. C’mon, get your stuff together.”  
“A lead?” Joe asked. “For what? I mean, from where?”  
“From Sally,” Jed explained. “I found her out by the Baird’s place. Apparently Courtney and some hired hand were talking about getting money to her pa. Sally says they’re meeting him at Deke’s Canyon. If we hurry, we just might catch ‘em.”  
“Just hold on a second,” Joe protested. “Deke’s Canyon?”  
“Yeah. C’mon, let’s go!”  
“Dammit!” Joe cursed. “I can’t leave the town unprotected after all this, and all the decent men went off with Sheriff Trevors…”  
“We can look after the town,” Levi assured his superior. “Wes and me have been practicin’ long enough. We can do it for real. Can’t we Wes?”  
Wes’ big blue eyes widened in surprise at being volunteered for active duty, but once he got over the shock, his head bobbed up and down in conformation. “Yeah, we can look after the town. No problem.”  
Joe hesitated. He wanted nothing more than to get a chance at bringing in the men who had killed his boss and friend, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving two greenhorns behind on their own. What if the Bairds came back here?”  
“If Courtney has made plans to meet up with her pa, I don’t think it’s too likely they would return to town,” Jed pointed out. “C’mon, let’s go. We’re wastin’ time.”   
Joe still hesitated, biting his lower lip with indecision.  
“We can handle things here, Deputy Morin,” Levi repeated. “Go get that bastard.”  
“Yeah,” Wes chipped in.  
“Joe!” Jed was already heading back out the door. “C’mon!”  
Joe made up his mind. “Okay fellas. I’ll count on you to keep the town safe.”  
“Yeah, yeah,” said Levi. “Get goin’.”  
Joe joined Jed on the boardwalk, and they made their plans.  
“I’ll go back to Heyes’ place to get more supplies,” Jed told him. “This might take longer than I thought. You go and get your gear ready, and I’ll meet you there.”  
“Okay.”  
“Be quick!”  
“I will!” Joe snarked. “I want to get those fellas too, ya’ know.”  
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Jed responded. “Sorry. My tempter’s a little short these days.”  
Joe gave a wave in acceptance as he took off down the boardwalk to get his supplies and his mare ready for travel.  
Jed mounted up and headed off back to Heyes’ house. Passing by David’s place along the way, he cursed when he saw Fanny still standing unattended at the hitching rail.  
“Sally!” he yelled. “Sally, get out here!”  
Within seconds, Sally appeared on the front porch, with Blu right beside her.  
“Yes, Uncle Jed?”  
“What did I tell you?” he asked her, as he pointed at the mare. “Tend to your horse. I know you’ve had a difficult morning, but you can’t leave your horse standing there with no food or water.”  
“But Grandma has grounded me for running off without permission,” Sally pouted.  
“And rightly so,” Jed agreed. “But I’m sure your grandma will agree that your horse comes first.”  
“He’s quite right, missy,” Belle’s voice sounded from inside the house. “You tend to your horse first, then get yourself right back here again, straight away.”  
“Yes, Grandma,” Sally agreed, and came down the steps to do her duty.  
Jed nodded approval and again picked up the lope to continue on to his destination.  
Xxx  
“I don’t know, Darlin’,” Jed said, as he scurried around the kitchen and alcove, collecting up his gloves, bed roll and rain slicker, along with a few more supplies that might be needed for an extended trip into the back country. “But we gotta move fast, if’n we want’a catch them fellas. If you hear from Lom, or anyone in the posse, tell them Deke’s Canyon. Those local boys with ‘im ought ‘a know where it is.”  
“I know where that is,” Beth told him. “It just a couple of hours out of town. Did you know that it was named after our Deke, our own head wrangler?”  
“That’s nice,” Jed mumbled distractedly, as he stuffed more items into his saddle bags. That done, he turned and gave Beth a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll get back and soon as I can.”  
“And be…”  
“Yeah. I’ll be careful.”  
They both hurried outside and Jed strapped the extra items onto his saddle. He was just tying it all down when Joe loped up on Black Betty. Both horses were wide eyed and strung tight, picking up on their human’s moods. They danced and mouthed their bits with impatience, wanting to be off and going on this new adventure.  
Unlike Luke, Jed stepped gracefully aboard his pivoting horse, and with one more wave farewell to his wife, the two men galloped out of town, heading back to the Baird’s ranch, and their jump off point.  
Xxx  
Red Rock, Texas  
Stepping off the train in Red Rock was almost like stepping out of the oven and onto the grill. The heat hit them like waves on a hot ocean and Miranda felt for sure that she was going to swoon again. She held onto her husband’s arm and took deep steady breaths to clear her head and to stay on her feet. She felt disgust with herself for being so weak and ‘feminine’ when she had always seen herself and being strong and self-reliant.  
Hannibal held her steady as he led them off the platform and into the relative coolness of the station house. Apparently his wife was not the only one suffering from the heat wave, as there were many ladies who were already seated on the numerous benches and waving their fans or handkerchiefs in front of their faces and necks. Hannibal escorted Miranda over to a section of bench that was a little less crowded than the others and assisted his wife to sit down.  
“Is that better?” he asked her.  
“Yes,” she assured him as she took out her own fan and quickly put it to use. “Much better, thank you.”  
“Okay. Wait here. I’ll go tend to our luggage and arrange a ride for us out to Mac’s place.”  
Miranda sent him a clammy smile and nodded acquiescence.   
Heyes squeezed her hand as he tried to mask his worry for her, then with a flash of his dimples, he walked out to attend to his errands.  
“What a handsome husband you have,” stated an older lady who was sitting beside Miranda. “And so attentive to you. You’re very fortunate.”  
Miranda glanced over at her, pleased at meeting up with a woman who was just as outspoken as she was. “Oh yes,” she answered in an effort to socialize despite her buzzing head. “He is very handsome. And he does try to be a good man.”  
Her neighbor cocked an eyebrow. “Try?” she asked. “I’ve seen many men try, but most of them simply don’t have the knack. Your man seems genuinely kind, and believe me, I’ve been around the block enough times to know the difference.”  
Miranda smiled, feeling more comfortable, even though she was still very hot. “Yes, well. He does try,” she repeated. “We are newly married, and lately he’s…oh, no, it doesn’t matter.”  
“He’s what?” the woman asked.  
“Really,” Miranda reiterated. “It’s not important.”  
She smiled. “Too protective, sometimes?” she asked sweetly.  
Miranda sent her a sharp look, but then smiled at the soft grey eyes twinkling back at her. “Well, yes,” she admitted. “Far too protective, sometimes. I’m seeing a new side to him that I suppose was always there, but…” She stopped and laughed. “My name’s Miranda,” she offered and extended a warm hand. “If we’re going to be talking intimacies, we should at least know one another’s names.”  
“Quite right,” the lady agreed. “I’m Gertrude, but Gertie is so much more fun.”  
“Nice to meet you, Gertie,” Miranda told her as they gently shook hands. “My husband really is a good man, but something happened recently that caused me some concern. It’s just…he can be very masterful sometimes.”  
“Well, that’s men for you,” came back the wise reply. “Still, I can see that you are worried. Perhaps you should do a check list.”  
“A check list?” Randa asked. “What do you mean?”  
“Well, does he hit you?”  
“No. Never.”  
“Does he yell at you and put you down?”  
“No. He’s very kind, actually.”  
“Is he lazy?”  
“Ha!” Randa laughed at that one. “Hardly!”  
“Does he drink?”  
“Not to excess.”  
“Does he fight and gamble?”  
Miranda’s smile faded. “Yes. I mean, I always knew he was a gambler. I knew that before I married him. He loves the game and is very good, but he knows when to stop. He never gambles with money that we need for other things. He’s very careful that way.”  
“Then that’s not a problem?”  
“No, not at all.”  
“So,” Gertie concluded. “He is overly protective, and he fights. He has a violent tempter?”  
“No, no!” Miranda was quick to correct that assumption. “Oh, I don’t know what I mean. He got into a fight with a man who was being rude to me, that’s all. But it frightened me. I didn’t think he was going to stop.”  
“Don’t you worry too much about your husband,” Gertie told her. “The first few years of marriage are full of new discoveries. The most a new wife can hope for is that most of them will be happy ones. Believe me, there are many young brides who find themselves attached to a husband who ends up being nothing like the charming beau who came courting them.”  
“Yes, of course,” Miranda agreed, though she still felt uneasy. “You’re right. He is a fine man, and I’m lucky to have him. Are you married, Gertie?”  
“I was,” Gertie answered. “For thirty-two years. But he passed a few months back, so now I’m coming to live here with my daughter and her husband.”  
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Randa told her. “My first husband also passed. I know how lost that can leave you feeling.”  
“Oh my,” Gertie responded. “You’re so young to be a widow. But obviously you were fortunate to find love again.”  
“Yes,” Randa agreed. “And you’re right; he is a good man. It’s just taking some adjustment.”  
“Of course it is,” Gertie concurred. “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. And now I see, he is coming back.”  
Randa followed her gaze, and sure enough, she spied her husband coming back towards them, a triumphant smile upon his face.  
“Everything’s organized,” he announced. “Mac sent us a carriage, and the driver is getting our luggage aboard. Are you ready?”  
“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “I’m feeling much better. Gertie, I’d like you to meet my husband, Han. Han, this is Gertie. We’ve been having a lovely conversation while you were away.”  
“Oh,” Heyes grinned, and removing his hat, he took the lady’s hand in greeting. “Ma’am. A pleasure to meet you. Do you live in Red Rock?”  
“I do now,” Gertie informed him. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”  
“Yes.”  
“Oh, and here’s my son-in-law,” Gertie announced. “Well, have a lovely stay with your friends. Goodbye for now.”  
“Yes, goodbye Gertie,” Miranda responded as the older lady got to her feet and promptly departed. Miranda laughed as she stood up. “My, what a whirlwind. She ended that conversation just as she began it. No inhibitions there.”  
“She seems lovely.” Heyes commented as they walked towards the exit.  
“Funny, that was her opinion of you, as well.”  
Xxx  
The ride out to the ranch did a lot to refresh Miranda’s spirits. The carriage was open to allow a breeze to waft through, but there was also a cover over the seated area to protect the passengers from the onslaught of the mid-day sun. The matched pair of finely bred greys trotted briskly along the hard dirt road, and the couple settled back in the comfortable cushions to relax and enjoy the trip after the exhausting and stuffy train travel.  
As they approached the ranch proper, Miranda could not help but be impressed. Though not as green as the Double J, the McCreedy spread was even more imposing in its grandeur and expression of wealth than the subtler and homey Colorado spread. Of the two, Miranda felt more comfortable at the Jordan’s ranch, but she still could not help but admire the beauty and expanse of this all-encompassing landscape.  
The horses’ foot falls changed from the dull thumping of hitting dirt, to the loud, crisp clopping of iron shoes trotting along the rock inlaid courtyard. The house they approached was more reminiscent of a large, elegant hotel, than it was of a single residence, and Heyes enjoyed watching his wife take in the grandeur of the stone, red brick and hard wood abode as seeing it for the first time.   
The driver pulled up right in front of the large wooden door, and the doorman stepped forward to take the horses’ heads. Another servant opened the small half door on the carriage and offered a hand to the lady as she stood up and stepped out.  
“Thank you,” Miranda smiled as she disembarked, but then her attention was again taken over by the impressive structure before her. It seemed as though she could not look at it long enough to take it all in.   
“Please come this way,” the servant offered, as he opened the front door and ushered them into the front hall. “I will make sure that your luggage is brought up to your rooms. If you’ll just have a seat, Mrs. McCreedy will be here shortly.  
“Thank you,” Heyes told him, with a knowing grin.   
Mac was definitely showing off for Miranda’s sake. Not once did he and the Kid ever get a welcome like this. More often than not, whenever they arrived, they were escorted by men armed with rifles and threatening stares, not smiles and servitude.  
Miranda continued to gaze around at her new surroundings. The front hall, just as the rest of this impressive ranch house, was filled with exquisite artwork and fine expensive carpeting. There was a distinct South American feel to the numerous sculptures and finely crafted furniture that adorned the spacious room, something that had not been present the last time Heyes and the Kid had come to visit.  
Hannibal and Miranda both sat down in one of the plush arm chairs, and she sent a cheeky smile to her husband.  
“I know you said he was rich, but…”  
Heyes grinned. “Mac has taken some extra steps to impress you. But he does know how to live well.”  
Miranda laughed. She was about to comment further, but they were interrupted by the arrival of the lady of the house.  
Heyes was instantly on his feet again, and he extended a friendly hand to the woman.  
“Senora McCreedy,” he greeted her. “How are you?”  
“I am well, Senor Smith,” she answered with her heavily accented English. “I trust that you found the drive out here a pleasant one.”  
“Indeed, Senora,” Heyes assured her, then he turned and offered his hand to Miranda. She accepted it and came to her feet. “I would like to introduce you to my wife, Miranda.”  
“How do you do, Senora Smith,” Carlotta greeted her politely. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”  
“You as well,” Miranda reciprocated. “But please, call me Miranda.”  
“Of course,” she agreed. “I am Carlotta. Welcome to my home.”  
Miranda smiled at their hostess and felt an instant liking for her. She was, of course, an older lady, with her once black hair now streaked in grey, and a figure more plump than trim. But her dark Mexican features held onto the classical beauty that had been her trademark in a younger day, and she still carried herself with the dignity and self-confidence of someone who was used to being in charge.  
“Please,” Carlotta continued. “Come out to the courtyard. Would you like some refreshments?”  
“Some water would be lovely,” Miranda told her as they followed their hostess out of the receiving room.  
“Is that all?” Carlotta asked.   
“Yes,” Miranda insisted. “The train ride was very hot and stuffy. I can think of nothing better than a class of cool water, right now.”  
Carlotta smiled. “Of course.”  
They continued to follow their hostess down a stone laid hallway that exuded a fresh airiness that belied the true temperatures of the day. At the end of the passage, they walked through a set of glass double doors that presented them to an open air courtyard that was bordered by green ferns and flowering cacti. In the far corner of the yard, there stood a large stone carved fountain of an angel pouring water from an urn into the hands of children who were kneeled at her feet. The water continued to pour through their little hands and cascade down into a stone pool and from there, was pumped back up to fall once again from the urn and into the outreached hands.  
The coolness of the stone flooring, along with the colorful plants and ferns, and the gentle splashing of the water, made this courtyard very comfortable and inviting for guests coming to visit. Again, Heyes was not surprised by the fact that he and the Kid had never been invited out here before. This was for special guests.   
Carlotta motioned them to sit in any of the numerous chairs and benches. A young Mexican woman quickly made an appearance and Carlotta spoke briefly to her in Spanish. The servant nodded her understanding and instantly departed.   
The hostess returned to her company and sat down to join them.  
“The refreshments will be here shortly,” she informed her guests. “There is also a light lunch being prepared. “My husband is finishing up some business, but he will join us soon. I hope you do not mind being entertained by his wife in the meantime.”  
Heyes grinned. “Not at all. It’s an improvement, to say the least.”  
Carlotta smiled wisely. She was well aware of Senor Smith’s charms.  
Twenty minutes later, Miranda was feeling much better. She had removed her sandals and was sitting stretched out on a lounger with a tall glass of lemon water by her side. She lay her head back and sighed with contentment, totally unaware that she was showing off a scandalous portion of ankle and calf in her pursuit of comfort.  
Heyes smiled mischievously at his wife’s lack of decorum, while Carlotta exuded indulgent and understanding of the younger woman’s condition.  
Then the quiet peace of the courtyard was obliterated as a voice that Heyes was so very familiar with boomed out across the open space like thunder rolling in from the mountain tops. Heyes came to his feet as Miranda, suddenly aware of her indiscretions, stretched down her skirt, and stood up to meet their host. Carlotta came to her feet in a more stately fashion as the large goateed rancher made his presence known and lumbered his way over to their guests.  
“Smith!” he bellowed as he stuck out his paw for shaking. “Glad you could make it. Sorry about that; a little bit of business to finish up.” He smiled as he caught sight of the lady standing beside her husband. “Well, now. How do you do, ma’am. I hope my wife has entertained you in my absence.”  
“Yes,” Miranda assured him, and her eyes sparkled with amusement at this large, lumbering man who could pull off chivalrous behavior as convincingly as any gentleman at court. “Your wife has been very attentive.”  
“Good!” He leaned forward and attempted to whisper in Miranda’s ear, though his whisper was just as loud as any man’s speaking voice. “I got myself a good one, don’t you think?”  
Miranda laughed while Carlotta gave her husband a gentle slap on his arm.  
“Stop it,” she told him. “That is no way to talk to a fine lady in our home. Show her some respect.”  
“Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am,” Mac apologized to Miranda, though his smile was anything but apologetic. “My wife often lets me know when I’m being rude. Can’t imagine how I ever got along without her.”  
“That’s quite alright,” Miranda assured him. “I’ve been known to succumb to the similar indulgences, myself.”  
Mac sent her a twinkle. He liked here already.  
“Ah, Mac,” Heyes interrupted. “Before things get too far ahead, I’d like to introduce my wife, Miranda.”  
“Of course,” Mac responded, all serious now. “It’s a pleasure to meet the woman who was man enough to put a brand on this maverick.”  
“And just as pleasurable to meet the man who corralled them in the first place,” Randa countered.  
Mac bellowed out a laugh and gave Heyes a slap on the back that jarred his long gone baby teeth.  
“You found a lady with some sass!” he noticed. “No surprise there. Juanita!” The young Mexican servant put in an appearance. “Bring me a glass of red wine.”  
“Si, Senor,” she agreed, then sent a questioning look to her mistress. “El vino rojo?”  
“Si,” Carlotta assured her, then she turned to their guests. “Would you like something more to drink now? A sherry, or a class of wine, perhaps?”  
“I’ll have a red wine,” Heyes accepted. “Thank you.”  
“And Senora?”  
“Yes, I think I will now. A crisp white would be very refreshing right now.”  
Carlotta nodded and turned back to the servant. “Los dos vinos tintos y dos de la manzana vino mi hermano que nos envían. Asegúrese de que el vino de manzana frío. Y traer alguna fruta recién cortada. Será un tiempo aún antes de que se sirve la cena.”  
Juanita nodded her understanding and left to fulfill the order.  
“You must forgive me,” Mac grumbled. “I never did learn how to speak Mexican. It can be quite a fiasco when my brother-in-law comes to visit.”  
“Why don’t you learn it?” Miranda asked him as they took to their seats again. “It’s a wonderful language; almost musical.”  
“Too lazy!” Mac admitted. “Besides, I got my wife to translate, and she’s the one who deals with the servants anyway. This arrangement works fine.”  
“Yes, I’m sure it does,” Miranda agreed, and she and Carlotta shared a smile. Being the only one who could communicate with the servants gave Carlotta a lot of power within her household and she was quite happy to keep it that way.  
“I understand you have a daughter at home,” Carlotta began in way of conversation. “You must be looking forward to getting back to her after this long away.”  
Miranda beamed with pleasure at the mention of Sally. “Yes, I can’t wait to see her again. She is so much fun.”  
“How old is she?”  
“She’s nine,” Miranda informed her. “We adopted her as soon as we married.”  
“Indeed?” Carlotta asked. “That would be quite an adjustment. Getting to know a new husband is challenging enough.”  
“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “But we managed. And now we have another one on the way.”  
“Yes, I know.”  
Mac harrumphed at the delicate turn the discussion had taken and was relieved when the servant arrived with the tray of drinks and fruit.  
“Oh my, how lovely!” Miranda exclaimed as she eyed the fresh fruit. “Look Hannibal, some oranges and grapefruit. How kind.”  
“Enjoy,” Carlotta told them. “I know how dry and thirsty train travel can make you. Dinner will be a few hours yet, so please help yourselves.”  
“Thank you,” Heyes responded. “I think I will.” And picking out a juicy section of orange, he sat back to enjoy it.  
“So, Joshua…” Heyes’ brow arched at the use of his familiar alias. “…you been keeping your hand in at the poker table?”  
Heyes bit into his orange while he scrutinized Big Mac. “I play a little bit. Mostly the small local game in town.” Then added a slightly defensive “Why?”  
“Oh, just wondering. I still run our little weekly poker game here on Friday nights. I thought you might like to join in. One of our regulars can’t make it this week, so there is plenty of room for you to participate.”  
“Uh huh,” Heyes sounded skeptical. “Is this the one with the twenty-thousand-dollar buy in?”  
“Oh, don’t let a little thing like that stop you.”  
“A little thing like that?” Heyes protested. “C’mon Mac, you know darn well I don’t have twenty thousand dollars.”  
“Hannibal, I could…”  
Heyes put a hand on his wife’s arm to stop her offer.  
“And even if I did, I wouldn’t be risking it on a poker game,” he concluded. “Especially one of your games. You forget Mac, I know how you play poker.”  
“Oh come on!” Mac protested. “It’s not going to be like that. Just a good honest game between friends.”  
Heyes snorted. “Even if I could trust you on that, which I don’t, it’s still the same problem. I don’t have the money for the buy in. Not for poker. We have more important things on the horizon.”  
“Yes, I heard about your detective agency,” Mac commented dryly. “How’s that going for you?”  
“Not bad,” Heyes told him. “It’s still getting started though, but we’ve had some steady work from it.”  
“Uh huh,” Mac continued as he looked at Heyes from under his brows. “Still, not the same excitement and payout that you get from a high stakes poker game though, is it?”  
“Mac. I’m not spending…”  
“I’ll loan you the money.”  
“Loan it to me!?” Heyes was flabbergasted, then almost angry at the insinuation. “You’re offering to loan me twenty thousand dollars to sit in on your poker game, and you expect me to lap it up and say ‘Gee thanks, Uncle Mac, that’s real generous of you.’? There’s a catch in there somewhere. I know it, and you know it. So come on, out with it.”  
“Nope,” Mac shook his head quite solemnly. “No catch.”  
“No catch!?” Heyes asked incredulously. “You’re probably going to rig the game to make sure I lose it, and then I’ll be in your debt even more than I am already!”  
“In my debt?” Mac asked, truly confused. “How is that?”  
Heyes settled down from his anger and almost looked guilty. “I know how much you did for me and the Kid,” he mumbled, and he felt his wife’s hand upon us arm. “We both owe you a lot. Look, why don’t you just tell me what it is you want instead of trying to trick me into it? You don’t always have to be scheming.”   
“Alright,” Mac agreed. “I suppose I just want to show off a little bit. Can’t blame me for that, can you?”  
“Show off?”   
“Sure! Having Hannibal Heyes sitting in on my poker game would be a fine feather in my cap,” Mac explained. “Can’t blame me for wanting to take advantage of an opportunity to put my neighbors in awe, can you?”  
Heyes sighed. He didn’t believe Mac’s excuse for one minute. “Well it still doesn’t matter,” he continued. “I don’t have the buy in and I won’t take it on a loan. If I lost it, there is no way I could pay it back.”  
“You won’t lose,” Mac informed him.  
“Oh, you know that for a fact, do you?” Heyes demanded. “Sorry Mac, I’m not taking the bait. I don’t know what you’re up to, but there is no way I’m getting myself into debt to you. Especially after everything else that’s happened.”  
“Forget about everything else!” Mac insisted. “I don’t like injustice any more than the next man, and what the Territory of Wyoming did to you was a disgrace. I wasn’t going to just sit back and watch them do the same thing to the Kid. No sir! These big high and mighty lawyers think they run the damn country! Well they aren’t the ones who built it, but they sure as hell, pardon ladies, will be the ones to bring it down, if people don’t take a stand against them. So that’s what I did. You and the Kid don’t owe me anything.”  
Heyes sat silently with lips pursed. Miranda instantly recognized it as his stubborn look, and apparently, so did Mac.  
“Alright, I tell you what,” Mac offered. “I won’t make it a loan. It’s a bet.”  
“A bet?” Heyes couldn’t believe his ears. This discussion was taking on surreal qualities. “On what?”  
“That you won’t lose,” Mac told him. “I’d say that’s a pretty fair bet: that Hannibal Heyes will come out the winner at just about any poker game he sits in on.”  
Heyes sent a look to Miranda, who responded with a smile and a rising of her own eyebrows. This was getting interesting.  
Mac smiled. He knew had gotten Heyes’ attention with that one. “So, what do you say?” he asked. “I’m willing to lay down a twenty-thousand-dollar bet that you will win. Then you can pay me back and keep whatever else you bring in. I won’t even charge you interest. And everything above board. I swear, I won’t do a thing to rig it.”  
“And if I lose?”  
Mac shrugged. “Same as any other bet. If you lose, I lose. You won’t owe me a thing.”  
Heyes still hesitated. “I donno. This sounds too much like one of your schemes.”  
“Get me a bible and I’ll swear on it!” Mac insisted. “And you know I’m serious!”  
Heyes met Mac’s eyes, and he knew that if there was anything that the big rancher did not take frivolously, it was his faith. He then looked again to his wife.  
“It might be fun,” she told him. “I know you’ve been itching to get into a more challenging game than the ones they have back home. These seems like the perfect opportunity.”  
“Would you mind?” he asked her. “Knowing these games, we could be at it all night.”  
“I’m sure I’ll manage,” Miranda laughed. “It’ll give me and Carlotta a chance to get better acquainted.”  
Heyes glanced at Carlotta and then back at his wife again.  
Mac sensed victory. “What do you say? Is it a deal?”  
Heyes sighed, the lure of a big stakes game reeling him in. “I’m wondering if I’m going to regret this,” he grumbled. “But alright, we have a deal.”  
“Fine!” Mac accepted and raised his wine glass for a toast. “To a good, honest game. And may the best man win.”  
Xxx  
“I can hear you thinking,” Miranda commented softly as the couple snuggled together in their comfortable, non-moving bed.  
Heyes smiled into the darkness and then sighed.  
Miranda waited, but there was no explanation coming her way. “What’s troubling you?” she finally asked him.  
Heyes shifted as he often did when trying to decide how to begin a dialogue. “Mac’s up to something,” he ventured. “I just know it.”  
“Why would he be?” Miranda asked. “You’re not here to do a job for him. He knows we’re on our honeymoon. And besides that, you’re not wanted anymore, so why would he feel that he had to trick you?”  
“Because that’s Big Mac,” Heyes stated. “He’s always up to something. And I do owe him, big time. Believe me, that’s not a comfortable position to be in.”  
“Well then, like you said earlier, why wouldn’t he just come out and ask you, if he wanted you to do something for him?”  
“Because Mac likes to play games. He was always trying to get one up on us. Always. But I can’t figure out what it is. He swore on the bible that he wasn’t going to rig the game, so what is he up to?”  
“If you don’t trust his motives, then why did you agree?” Miranda asked him. “You could have just said no.”  
“Saying no to Mac isn’t as easy as it sounds,” Heyes informed her. “He won’t let up on a thing. Besides…” and Miranda could feel him smile. “…being able to play in a big stakes game is awfully tempting. It’s been a while.”  
“Oh yes?” Miranda chuckled. “I thought that might have something to do with it.”  
“Yeah. But what is he up to?”  
“Does it matter?” Miranda asked. “You have nothing to lose, and it’ll give you a chance to stretch your wings a little bit. I know you’ve been denying yourself that pleasure because of the money. Especially with another little one on the way.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “I’m hardly going to risk money in a high stakes game, when we have something far more important on the line. If our agency was up and running full steam, it might be different, but right now, we have other considerations.”  
“Then I see this as a great opportunity,” Miranda pointed out. “Mr. McCreedy is willing to give you the money for the buy in and then take what comes. Why don’t you sit back and enjoy it? You might actually have some fun.”  
Heyes softly chuckled. “Yes, you’re right. Old habits die hard. I am kind of looking forward to it.”  
“There’s a surprise,” Randa teased him. “Just relax.”  
“I know,” Heyes agreed. “I should. My mind won’t shut off though, again. I’m going to be awake half the night, thinking about this. I just know it.” Then he jumped and caught his breath when he felt Miranda’s warm hand seek out his package and gently squeeze the balls. His heart rate instantly escalated. “I thought you weren’t feeling well.”  
“It comes and goes,” she whispered as she maneuvered herself astride him. He was erect and inside her before he had a chance to take control. She leaned forward, brushing her breasts against his chest and kissed him. “I’ll help you to relax and get that restless mind of yours to shut off and go to sleep.”  
Xxx  
The following morning dawned sunny and bright, just as all the other mornings had done of late. Heyes decided that another warm day would justify wearing his cottons while he was at the ranch, and since they had no real plans of going into town, he looked forward to a restful and quiet day. Randa switched from her first light weight attire, to her second one, in order to have the first laundered. She again patted herself on the back for being wise enough to purchase more than one set of the lovely Mexican printed skirts and white blouse when she had the chance. They were so comfortable for her these days, that she loathed to return to the more binding western dresses that would be expected of her, once they returned home.  
Coming down stairs, Juanita directed them out to the courtyard again, where their host and hostess were already seated and enjoying their morning cup of coffee. Heyes and Miranda joined them, and Juanita poured them both a coffee from the carafe and then discreetly left to attend to breakfast. Both of them were feeling refreshed and light-hearted.  
Carlotta smiled as she noted Heyes’ attire, but Mac sent him a frown.  
“That’s not how you intend to dress for the game tonight, is it?” he asked with a disapproving note. “If it is, I can call the tailor out and get you a decent suit.”  
“Don’t bother, Mac,” Heyes assured him as he added some cream to his coffee. “I have suitable attire, but these cloths are nice and comfortable for now.”  
“Hmm.”  
“Did you sleep well?” Carlotta asked them.  
Heyes’ grin spread across to both dimples. “Very well, thank you.”  
“Yes,” Miranda concurred with a twinkle. “It was so nice to not be jostled around like beans in a cup. I think I’ve had my fill of train travel for a while, although, unfortunately we’ll have to suffer through another week of it to get home.”  
“Train travel can be very tiring,” Carlotta agreed. “You are welcome to stay here until you are well rested, and feel up to it again.”  
“Thank you,” Heyes told her. “I’m afraid that we can’t extend longer than the week we had planned on. Snows can come early in the high country, and we should get home before the end of the month.”  
“Yes, of course,” Carlotta acknowledged. “But in the meantime, you can relax, and soak up our sun.”  
Fresh fruit was again brought to the table, soon followed by a basket of boiled eggs and then slabs of thickly sliced back bacon for those with a heartier appetite for the morning meal. Another basket filled with various types of warm baked bread and freshly churned butter also joined the ensemble.   
It was more food than Miranda knew she could do justice too, but Big Mac made up for the other lighter appetites at the table and the meal was given due respect.  
As they were finishing up, the doorman made a discreet entrance and handed his boss a telegram that was laid out upon a silver tray. Mac snatched up and gave it a quick scan.  
“Hmm, addressed to me, but it’s more for you,” he announced and placed it back on the tray.  
The doorman then moved over to Heyes and presented the same slip of paper.   
“Oh, thank you,” Heyes told him, as he accepted the slip of paper and unfolder it. “Oh. It’s from the Kid. He wants me to get in touch as soon as we arrive here.”  
“Oh.” Miranda was instantly concerned. “Does he say why? Has something else happened? Is Sally alright?”  
“He doesn’t say,” Heyes informed her. “Just to get in touch. I wouldn’t worry about it. If it was something important, he would have been more explicit.”  
“Will there be a reply, sir?”  
“Oh, yes,” Heyes told him. “Umm, just tell Mr. Jones that we have arrived. You’ll have to wait a moment while I go upstairs and get you some change…”  
“No,” Mac interjected. “Here!” The doorman returned to his boss and Mac dropped some coins onto the silver platter. “There. Go get it done.”  
“Yessir.”  
Heyes grinned over at the large man. “Getting generous in your old age, Mac?”  
“Harrumph, I’m already betting twenty thousand dollars on you! What’s another bit of change?”  
Xxx  
Hannibal and Miranda spent the morning outdoors, walking around the property and admiring the landscape. It was still a desert ranch, but Carlotta’s knowing hand was very obvious in her choices of shrubbery, statuettes and shaded walkways. Mac’s property had definitely improved since a woman had come to live there.  
“Are you happy?” Heyes asked as the couple strolled, hand in hand, through one of the cool walkways.  
“Yes,” Randa responded. “This is such a lovely place. It would be hard to feel anxious here.”  
“A woman’s touch does make a difference,” Heyes observed. “Coming here wasn’t always so relaxing for me and the Kid.”  
“Slightly different circumstances, I expect.”  
“Yes! So, what do you think of the McCreedys?”  
Miranda laughed. “He is a bear of a man, isn’t he?”  
“Yes,” Heyes concurred. “And he’s used to getting his own way.”  
“Well, his wife seems to have things well in hand.” Randa pointed out. “She doesn’t strike me as someone who is willing to put up with nonsense—or bullying. I quite like her.”  
Heyes chuckled.  
“What?” Miranda asked him, and gave his arm a gentle shake. “What’s so funny?”  
“Oh, just thinking back,” her husband told her. “I had no idea what I was taking on, playing match-maker for those two. It really is a miracle that it worked out at all.”  
“What?” asked Miranda, incredulously. “Hannibal Heyes doubting one of his own plans?”  
“Not at the time,” Heyes insisted with a grin. “I was just cocky enough to insist that it was going to work. But in hindsight? Yeah; I was playing with fire. Mac doesn’t take kindly to being manipulated, even though he does it to others all the time.”  
“Just like you don’t like being conned?” Miranda asked coyly.  
Heyes frowned. “Hmm. I guess you have a point there. Oh, what’s this?”  
Coming out at the end of the walkway, the couple found themselves down by the stables. Across the courtyard, a young dappled grey stallion was being worked in the corral, and Heyes was instantly attracted to the young horse’s conformation and style.  
Miranda smiled knowingly, as she felt her husband’s grip on her hand tighten and lead her uncompromisingly over to the fenced area.  
The horse was not particularly tall in stature, but his solid and majestic presence more than made up for it. His thick mane and tail flowed out behind him as he circled the corral in a slow, high stepping canter. The rider sat the horse effortlessly and barely had to touch the reins or put leg to barrel in order to get instant response from the horse he was riding.  
After twenty minutes of training, the young man brought the horse down to a cooling walk. He had not been oblivious to the admiring audience, and now he smiled a greeting and, dismounting, he walked the stallion over to where they stood.  
“Good morning,” he greeted them. “You seem to have a good eye for horses.”  
“Kind of hard to miss the quality of this one,” Heyes responded. “He’s a beauty, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a horse that moves like that. What’s his breeding?”  
“He is a Spanish horse,” the rider informed them. “An Andalusian.”  
“I’ve never heard of them.”  
“They’re well established in South America,” the man said. “And highly prized. Senor Armendariz sent this one up for his sister. I believe she intends to stand him at stud.”  
“Really?” Heyes stated, and a twinkle took over his eyes. “What are they like, temperament wise?”  
“They can be pretty hot,” came the response. “But very intelligent and willing. They need an experienced rider, but a gentle hand. They’re not as fast as a thoroughbred because of their high carriage, but they’re a comfortable ride and can go all day. They don’t mind the heat either; they were bred for it.”  
“Yeah.” Heyes looked deeply into the dark brown equine eye and saw the intelligence there, along with a gentle heart that was touched with fire.  
“I better get this fellow untacked and washed off,” the rider said. “You’re welcome to come back later, if you’d like a closer look.”  
“I just might do that,” Heyes told him. “Thank you.”  
“What are you thinking?” asked Miranda as she watched her husband watch the stallion being led away.  
Heyes’ dimples danced with quiet excitement. “Can you imagine the foal Karma would have with that fellow? Wow.”  
“I thought you didn’t want to breed her.”  
“Well, no, I don’t. Not yet. But he’s still a colt. I have time.”  
“Carlotta may want to keep his line pure,” Miranda pointed out, playing Devil’s advocate. “She may not accept breeding to an outside mare.”  
“It won’t hurt to ask,” Heyes countered as they began to walk back towards the ranch house. “The worse she can say is no.”  
Xxx  
“I would need to think about that, Senor Smith,” Carlotta told him over their lunch. “Alejandro is of the Carthusian strain and can show his lineage all the way back to Esclavo, who was the breed’s foundation sire. I had not intended to cross him with Western horses.”  
“Well, perhaps when you see Karma,” Heyes suggested. “She’s not your typical Western horse. She has already been approved as a foundation mare and has produced two impressive off-spring. One of which is going to be Mr. Jordan’s foundation sire for his breeding program.”  
“I am sure that she is of fine quality,” Carlotta appeased him. “But for Western horses. She is not of Spanish lineage. I doubt very much…”  
“Oh, what harm would it do?” Mac interjected over a mouthful of steak. “It’s not like it would ruin him for breeding to Spanish horses afterwards.”  
“I do not see you cross breeding your bulls,” Carlotta pointed out to her husband. “You are very particular which cows are permitted access to your Texas Longhorns.”  
“That’s different,” Mac insisted. “The Longhorns are dying out. You have to keep the line pure to keep them strong.”  
“I do not see…”  
“Ahh, I see I have caused some friction here,” Heyes commented. “All I ask is that you be willing to think about it. Deal?”  
Carlotta smiled at the charming and hopeful look that came to her, along with the request. “Alright, Senor Smith. I will, at least, consider it.”  
“Thank you.” Heyes accepted that, his smile growing. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to the stables and have another look at him. For no other reason than to appreciate a fine horse.”  
Carlotta sent her guest a knowing look. He was a charmer for sure, and knew how to say all the right things. She still wasn’t sure if her short courtship with Mr. McCreedy had been a long time brewing from afar, or a match completely set up by this man’s manipulations. She was no fool, but since all had worked out well for everyone concerned, she had decided not to press the issue.  
She smiled, and nodded. “Of course, Senor Smith. You are welcome to look.”  
“I don’t think I will,” Miranda stated. “I’m afraid the afternoon heat is not setting well with me. The coolness of the indoors suites me better. I may even take a nap.”  
“Of course,” Carlotta assured her. “If you are not born to this climate, it can be difficult. Especially for someone in your situation. With company coming this evening, I have things to attend to, but you are welcome to feel at home here.”  
“Thank you.”  
“What things to attend to?” Mac asked. “It’s just the usual poker game crowd. It’s not like you have to organize a big formal dinner.”  
Carlotta arched an eyebrow at her husband. “Far more goes on behind the scenes than you know. Do not worry yourself with it.”  
“Humph,” Mac grunted. “Well, I’ll leave that to your capable hands, my dear. It would seem that we all have our own agenda for the rest of the day.”  
“Yes.”  
Xxx  
Miranda stood on the small patio that was adjacent to the upstairs bedroom she had been sharing with her husband. She had lain down as planned, and had actually fallen asleep for a couple of hours. This pregnancy was certainly causing some changes in her stamina, and certainly in her ability to handle the heat. That, if for no other reason, was why she would be happy to head for home after they had had a chance to rest up. She was enjoying her stay so far, but the idea of cooler temperatures back in Colorado was feeling more and more agreeable as time wore on.  
Her musings were ended abruptly when she spotted the man whom she knew to be her husband, but, for an instant, had not recognize him as such. He was coming towards the house on his way from the stables and appeared to be deep in thought. Wearing the same light and baggy cottons he had adorned that morning, he could easily have passed for one of the McCreedy hired hands. Then, when the hot breeze that picked up the dust from his footsteps and sent it into gentle spirals did the same thing to his long dark hair, she felt a shiver of sexual excitement wash over her.  
His hair had grown long during their travels, and his bangs, when not held in place by his hat, like now, often flopped forward and over his eyes. The soft wind had picked them up and ruffled them down across his face and in an unconscious but familiar motion, he gave his head a slight flip and brushed the hair out of his eyes with one quick fluid motion of his hand. It didn’t help much though, as the offending locks simply feel forward again, making him look like an unkempt stable boy in need of a haircut.  
Then a loud noise from the direction of the stables shattered the illusion. Her husband instantly tensed, his right hand dropping down to his hip in anticipation of grasping a gun that was not there. It was over in an instant as Heyes realized that the noise was nothing to concern him, and he was back to being just anybody. Just a man walking through the courtyard.  
Miranda sighed. So many different aspects to this person whom she had married. He was a good man; she knew he was, and he was trying so hard to be a good husband and a good father, but the outlaw was still just below the surface. He was so kind and gentle towards her and Sally, but the raw aggression he could show to others, still frightened her. Could she live with that aspect of him? Would it be fair to expect something different? She’d known who it was she was marrying. Had she really fooled herself into believing that there wasn’t that side to him?  
Her hand went down to caress her slowly expanding belly. She loved that she carried their child inside of her, but what about when the child was born? Granted, he was a wonderful father to Sally. It was a challenge sometimes, for both of them, having to deal with a precocious young girl, but they all seemed to be managing alright. But a baby. The thought terrified even her. Would the West’s most successful outlaw, gifted conman and extremely talented gambler be able to keep his cool with a new born? Would she?  
Then again, her musings were abruptly ended when she noticed his eyes upon her. Somehow, he had known she was up there, and his gaze had risen to make contact. He smiled, all of his boyish, dimpled charm striking her like a bullet from a gun. Her heart ached with her love for him and with her one hand still caressing her precious cargo, she smiled and waved acknowledgment.  
Brushing his long bangs away from his eyes again, he waved back. Then his attention was diverted as Mr. McCreedy, like a bull in his own china shop, approached him and engaged him in conversation.  
“Smith,” he began. “You done lookin’ at that damn horse?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good! Come in to my study. I want to have a word.”  
Even Miranda could see the slight frown on her husband’s face as McCreedy walked on past him, not even waiting for acknowledgment of the request. Heyes hesitated for a moment and sighed, then with another glance up to his wife, he nodded and waved a quick goodbye.  
Xxx  
“What is it, Mac?” Heyes asked as he walked into the coolness of the familiar study.  
McCreedy was busy pouring out two glasses of sherry, then as Heyes entered the room he put down the decanter and quietly closed the door. Heyes frowned.  
“What’s with all the secrecy?” he asked.  
“Nothin’,” Mac assured him. “Just—men talk. Here, have a drink. Sit down.”  
Heyes accepted the drink, but didn’t sit down. Even now, he had a problem with being ordered around. “What’s up, Mac?”  
“Nothing. Come on, relax. You’re not hidin’ from anyone anymore. Sit down.” And Mac concluded this request by taking a seat himself.  
Heyes accepted the invitation then, and sat down opposite him. He took a sip of the sherry and was impressed. Big Mac certainly did know about quality.  
“So,” Mac began. “How is life treating you?”  
“Better than it was,” Heyes admitted. “It’s good. I’m happy.”  
“You found yourself a fine wife, that’s for sure,” Mac observed. “Still, no itchy feet? No missing the fast life?” Heyes frowned again, wondering where this was going. “You two boys had life by the short hairs,” Mac continued. “Livin’ high, livin’ fast. All the money and women you could possibly want. I gotta admit, I wondered why you threw it all away on that silly amnesty bid.”  
“Silly?” Heyes asked him. “We got it, didn’t we?”  
“Yeah, but at what cost?” Mac continued. “You went from livin’ high on the hog, to an impecunious state that even a church mouse would have scurried away from. Every time I spoke with you boys, you were broke. And I can’t see you doing much better now.”  
“You’re wrong, Mac,” Heyes insisted. “Things are much better now. And we’re not broke. Our business is doing well. Just because I didn’t have twenty thousand dollars to buy into your poker game, doesn’t mean I’m ‘impecunious’.”  
“Your wife’s money.”  
“No! It is not Miranda’s money!” Heyes felt his hackles rise. “The Kid and I are doing better than you seem to think, Mac. Besides that, we don’t have that bounty hanging over our heads anymore. That’s worth the price right there. What’s this all about, Mac?”  
“I’ve got a job to offer ya’,” Mac admitted. “You and the Kid, if you want to let him in on it. Ten thousand a year.”  
“Each?”  
“No, not each. You do it yourself, or you bring the Kid in with ya’. Pays the same; ten thousand. That’s the offer.”  
“Doing what?”  
“Same thing you’re doing now; security, private detecting. Only with a steady pay check,” Mac told him. “With one child at home and another on the way, that should appeal to you. The Kid, too.”  
Heyes took another sip of sherry and considered it. “I donno, Mac. I’ve always been my own boss, you know that. Working for somebody else, full time. Doing the same job day in and day out. Might as well be back in prison. Tell you what; if you wanted to hire us to do a job for you now and then, we could do that. Just like we used to. The only difference is; it would be legitimate now. It’d be us, not Smith and Jones.”  
“Yeah, but not very steady,” Mac complained. “And what if I needed you right away? It would take you a week to get here from Colorado. No, no. I’d want you boys right here, where I could find ya’, when I needed ya’.”  
“Where we would constantly be at your beck and call?” Heyes questioned and then laughed. “I might have been born at night, but not last night. I don’t think so, Mac.”  
“Why don’t you talk it over with Jones first,” Mac suggested. “He might have a different idea.”  
“Then he would be welcome to come down here and do it,” Heyes countered. “You said yourself, it really only requires one of us.”  
“But the one I want, is you.” Mac told him. “Oh, the Kid’s alright, and if all I needed was a fast gun, he’d be the man. But I need someone with some brains, and that’s you.”  
“The Kid is plenty smart, Mac,” Heyes told him. “I’m sure he could handle anything you needed handling.”  
“Hmm,” Mac grumbled. “There’s smart and then there’s genius. What’s the point of having money, if you can’t get the best?”  
“Money doesn’t buy everything.”  
“Wanna bet? It helped to buy your freedom, and the Kid’s life.”  
Heyes frowned. He’d never heard that version before, but it wouldn’t surprise him. He swirled the dark amber liquid around in the glass and felt himself mesmerized by its fiery ambiance, but the desire to drink it had left his pallet.  
“So you are calling in the chips on that one,” he observed. “The Kid and I both owe you our lives, and you’re going to demand payment in full. Is that it?”  
Mac narrowed his eyes. “Something like that.”  
Heyes’ jaw tightened. Standing up, he set the glass of sherry down on the table and prepared to leave.  
“Maybe we better forget about this poker game tonight,” he said. “I think it’s best that Miranda and I leave first thing in the morning, and I’ll need my rest.”  
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Mac insisted. “Sit down, sit down. You can’t blame a fellow for tryin’, can you? That’s what I like about you, Smith; you’re fearless. There aren’t too many men who would dare say no to me.” He chuckled. “Sit down. Here, drink your sherry. Relax. You called my bluff, yessir, you sure did. You’re a real poker player, that’s for sure. That’s what I like about ya’.”  
Heyes accepted his drink and sat back down again, but he was anything but relaxed.  
“Mac, why don’t you just tell me what it is you want?” he suggested. “It might make things move a lot easier tonight.”  
“I want you to come work for me full-time.”  
“No,” Heyes answered flatly. “I like where I’m living. It’s a good town, with good people. It’s home.”  
Mac snorted. “Home! Home is where you hang your hat. Since when have you bothered about home?”  
“Well, that’s just it, Mac,” Heyes pointed out. “When we were runnin’ from the law, we couldn’t settle anywhere. It got to the point where I didn’t think I could. Now, yeah. I’ve got a place to call home, and it does matter. I’ve got it good there, and so does the Kid. I kind of doubt that he would want to leave it either.”  
“Fine, fine, have it your way,” Mac retreated, throwing up his hands in defeat. “But don’t say I didn’t offer ya’ something worthwhile.”  
“I won’t, Mac,” Heyes insisted. “Honestly; I’m happy where I am.”  
“Oh, by the way,” Mac cautioned. “We have some new players in the game tonight. Fellas you haven’t met yet. I’d appreciate it if you don’t let on who you are. They might feel a little intimidated, having Hannibal Heyes sitting in on our game. You understand?”  
“You bringing me in as a ringer?” Heyes asked him.  
“No,” Mac denied flatly. “I just want everyone to feel relaxed and have a good time. I haven’t spread the word around about who you really are, and I’d like to keep it that way. At least until after the game. Then you can have some fun with it, if you like. Peterson knows, but he’s agreed to stay quiet about it.”  
Heyes smirked, not seeing how Peterson could stay quiet about anything.  
“He sure got quite a hoot out of it, when I told him, though!” Mac snorted. “Thought it was a great joke, Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry, nervous as newlyweds, coming into our bank and asking for a loan! I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh that loud in my life.”  
Heyes couldn’t help a grin. The irony of that situation was not lost on him.  
A gentle knock came to the study door, and Mac’s booming voice almost set the decanter to rattling. “What is it!?”  
The door opened cautiously and Juanita peaked in. “Fifteen minutes until dinner, sir,” she informed her boss. “Mrs. McCreedy ask me inform you.”  
“Oh. Fine. Yes, we’ll be right there.” The door closed and Mac rolled his eyes. “Can’t get any privacy anymore! Damn women all over the household. Can’t imagine why I ever got married!”  
Heyes sent him a sly smile. “C’mon Mac, you’ve never been happier and you know it.”  
Mac shot him a glance, then bellowed out a laugh. “Dammit, you’re right about that! You found me a good wife, Smith!” He raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to married life!”  
Heyes raised his glass as well. “To married life.”  
Xxx  
After dinner, Heyes was upstairs in their room, with Miranda helping him dress for the big game. It’s not that he really needed her help, but a smart man knows when to accept his wife’s assistance whether he needs it or not. Besides, he enjoyed being on the receiving end of the special attention she would always give to the details.  
“Are you sure you don’t want to wear your suit?” Miranda asked. “Isn’t formal attire expected at these high stake games?  
“It depends,” Heyes answered, as he fiddled with his string tie. “It’s kind of hot this evening for a formal suit, and I want to be able to focus on the game, not on how tight my collar is.”  
“Good point,” she conceded. “And I must admit, you look debonair in just about anything you chose to wear, so I’m sure this will do. My, but the girl certainly got a lovely shine on those black leather boots. Very classy.”  
Heyes smiled as he turned away from the mirror and donned his light corduroy jacket over top his white shirt. Everything had been freshly laundered and ironed that afternoon and Heyes did manage to look the part of a gentleman gambler visiting acquaintances for a friendly game. Still, Miranda frowned.  
“What?” her husband asked, looking down at his boots and black trousers and wondering what she was seeing that was amiss.  
“Your hair,” she sighed. “You really are in need of a cut.”  
“Oh.” Heyes ran his hands through his long locks and pushed the bangs off his forehead. “Better?”  
“For now. But will they stay there?”  
“Probably not,” he surmised. “But I don’t want to grease it down. They’ll just have to take the outlaw look for now.”  
“Well, you look very handsome, in any case.”  
“Yes?”  
“Yes.”  
From downstairs, they could hear Mac’s big bellowing voice welcoming guests into the front foyer, and then other, softer voices responding in answer.  
Heyes took in a deep breath to steady his nerves and his thoughts. “Well, sounds like it’s time to get down there.”  
“Yes. Are you nervous?”  
“A little,” he admitted. “It’s been a while.”  
“You’ll do fine,” she assured him. “Knowing you, you’ll be right in there once you get your feet wet. I strongly suspect that you’re going to have fun.”  
“I hope so. I sure wish I knew what Mac was planning, though.”  
“You still think he has something up his sleeve?”  
“Oh yes.”  
“You don’t put much stock in his word, do you?”  
Heyes snorted. “Let’s just say, I’ll be paying close attention to who’s in the game and what’s going on behind the scenes.”  
“You mean, just like at any other poker game?”  
“Yes.”  
“You’ll be right in your element.”  
Heyes chuckled. “Yes.” Then he sobered and took his wife into his arms. “Are you sure you’re alright with this? I am kind of abandoning you on our honeymoon.”  
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Miranda teased him. “It’s just for one evening. Besides, Carlotta and I will be spending the evening out in the courtyard, comparing notes.”  
“Really?” Heyes asked, one brow arching. “Perhaps I should call this whole thing off.”  
Miranda smirked and gave him a slap on the chest. “Go play your game. And have fun.”  
Heyes leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Yes dear.”

To Be Continued.


	15. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reason for McCreedy's interest in Heyes' involvement in the poker game, become apparent.
> 
> The Brookswood Posse close in on the Bairds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know the first thing about poker. Well, maybe the first thing, but not much after that.

Justice 

Hannibal and Miranda came down the stairs together, but as soon as they reached the main level, they parted company. They could both hear Mac’s loud voice as he made small talk with his neighbors, and Miranda felt it best that she duck out, before the other men spotted her. The last thing she wanted to deal with, was a bunch of ogling men questioning her about her, and her husband’s identities.  
“I’ll see you later,” she whispered and gave Han a quick kiss on the cheek. “Try not to lose too much.”  
“Well that’s confidence for you,” Heyes complained. “How about if I try not to win too much?”  
Miranda smiled and left him to his company.  
“Ah! There you are, Smith!” Mac boomed, as Heyes joined the group in the front foyer. “I was afraid you might have backed out on us.”  
“No,” Heyes answered with a small smile. “Just getting organized.”  
“Well, you already know Peterson, here,” Mac began the rounds.  
“Yessir,” Heyes conceded, and shook the banker’s hand. “Good to see you again, sir.”  
Peterson’s brow went up at the formality, and he broke out laughing while returning the hearty handshake. “Oh, this is going to be fun!” he stated. “Good to see you again too, Smith. Your buddy not with you this time?”  
“No, not this time.”  
“What a shame! Still, you’re more the game player, ain’t ya’? Decided to come back for more punishment, I see.”  
“I certainly hope not, Mr. Peterson,” Heyes commented as he sent a warning smile over to Big Mac. “Just interested in a nice, friendly little game.”  
“Sure ya’ are!” Peterson laughed his usual annoying bellow and slapped Heyes on the shoulder. “Yessir, this is going to be a fun game tonight. Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”  
Heyes frowned, the feeling that Peterson knew more about what was going on this evening, than he himself had been privy to, was now nagging at his gut. He sent another pointed look over to the host, but Mac was quick to avoid the silent question.  
“You remember ole’ Snyder from your previous visits, don’t you, Smith?” the big rancher asked, as he motioned over to the weasily little man in the gray tweed suit.  
Heyes felt his skin itch just looking at the man sweating in that heavy material. “Yessir, Mr. Snyder,” he nodded and shook the man’s damp hand. “Good to see you again.”  
“Hmm,” came back the guarded response. “I understand that you were away on an extended trip. Mac said you were out of the country for a few years, which is why we haven’t seen you around lately. Was your trip a success?”  
“Ah, yessir,” Heyes assured him. “It came to a very satisfactory conclusion.”  
“Good! You partner was here on occasion, but he’s not quite the poker player you are, is he—Mr. Smith?”  
Heyes smiled, wondering how many of these people might actually know who he and the Kid really were. It’s dubious enough, counting on Big Mac to keep his mouth shut, but Peterson as well? On the other hand, why should it worry him? Mac’s the one who wanted to keep things light. Old habits sure take a beating before they’ll die.  
“And this over here, is Paul Masson,” Mac continued with the introductions. “He bought the neighboring ranch six months ago and just recently joined in on our little games here.”  
Hands were shaken again, as the two men acknowledged one another. Heyes noted that the rancher was also dressed light formal for the evening and felt an instant comradery with him.  
“And our final player tonight is Malcolm Hutchinson,” Mac continued. “He’s retired railroad.”  
Heyes’ smile froze, but he recovered quickly and gave the gentleman a friendly handshake. It seemed extremely unlikely that a railroad man would not recognize Heyes from his trial, but the look in the man’s eyes, as they shook hands, was more of superiority than recognition. It may be that enough time had passed, and that Hannibal Heyes was no longer in the forefront of the railroad’s concerns. Anonymity could have its advantages.  
“Mr. Hutchinson,” Heyes greeted him. “Nice to meet you.”  
“Indeed,” Hutchinson responded as he looked down his nose in that insufferable manner that always made Heyes feel justified in stealing from the wealthy corporations. “I have yet to see you at any of our weekly games. You must have been coming before I retired. How is it that a man, who is still in his working prime, can take time away from his business to play games? You’re not a professional gambler, are you, Mr. Smith?”  
“I don’t gamble for a living, if that’s what you mean,’ Heyes assured him. “I simply…”  
“He has a wealthy wife!” Mac boomed out with a belly laugh. “And better yet; she doesn’t mind him spending her money at the poker table. Just so long as he doesn’t lose too much. Isn’t that right, Smith?”  
Heyes laughed and went along with the joke. Mac was in fine form tonight.  
“Does he indeed?” Hutchinson asked, but then he smiled, as he assumed he was meeting another money hungry scavenger, such as himself. “I meant no disrespect. Just curious that a man this young would actually be able to come up with the buy in, that’s all.”  
“Well, he did come up with it, and that’s all you need to worry about,” Mac informed him. “Now! Time is wasting. Let’s get in there and play some poker!”  
The troop of players filed into the games room, and got themselves settled into their usual places around the circular poker table.  
“So, you’ve taken yourself a wife now, have you?” Peterson asked, as they sat down.  
“Yes, I have,” Heyes concurred.   
“And she’s a wealthy woman?”  
“Yes she is, Mr. Peterson. But Mac was just pulling your leg. I pay my own way.”  
“Good for you!” Peterson bellowed, and gave Heyes another teeth rattling slap on the back. “But it still doesn’t hurt to have a wealthy wife in the background, now does it? Always knew you were a smart man.”  
Heyes ignored the comment. Peterson was so good natured that it never seemed to occur to him that he was being rude. Besides that, it was game time, and Heyes knew, he had to focus on what was at hand and not let the irritations of other players distract him. It was time to get down to business.  
Mac, as host, announced the game and did the first shuffle. Heyes felt himself relax with the familiar sounds of a poker game getting underway. Maybe this all was just innocent fun, and he even smiled with anticipation, until he saw Hutchinson’s suspicious gaze upon him. Was it just the natural anxiety of an established player having to accept a newcomer into the game; an unknown commodity that could shake up the comfortable regime? Or did this railroad man actually recognize Hannibal Heyes and was trying to come up with a way to take advantage of that knowledge? Goodness knows, turning him in for the reward money wasn’t going to cut it anymore. How unfortunate.  
The deck was shuffled, the cards divvied out, and the players set about capturing the elusive best hand of the evening. With a $20,000 buy in, and six players in the game, the pot was already substantial. But all is relative, and the play started out slowly, with each man at the table giving themselves time to become comfortable with the deck and the new dynamics of the room.  
Heyes was tentative at first, still having his doubts as to why Big Mac had insisted he sit in on this game. It did occur to him that he might just be here to give the game a decent number of players. But then he vetoed that idea. Mac’s weekly games were popular, and his usual problem was keeping the numbers down. No, Mac had limited the players for a reason, and Heyes shifted uncomfortably with his own confirmation that he was being set up. He bet small and carefully, feeling his way and deliberately allowing more than one pot to go elsewhere, giving himself time to become intimate with the deck. He watched the other players, looking for their tells and pinpointing them faster than he did at a penny-ante saloon game with cowboys and dirt farmers. Give a man money, and you rob him of his sense.  
Peterson had always been easy to spot. He didn’t care what tells he was sending out, because he didn’t care if he won or lost. Coming to these weekly games was not about winning, as far as Peterson was concerned. It was about good business and socializing with current and potential customers. He was a wealthy man; he bet small and could afford to lose. And though he lost a lot, he always seemed to be the one having the most fun.  
Snyder was more serious. He wanted to win, but he was such a bad poker player, that Heyes hardly gave him a second glance. Heyes didn’t need to watch him, as his decisions were so bad, he always cut his own throat, without any help form the other players. His right eyebrow also went up, when he thought he had a winning spread.  
Mr. Masson was a good player. He enjoyed the game and did reasonably well, but his memory wasn’t as sharp as Heyes’, and he often lost track of where the cards were during the shuffling of a new hand. He lost more than one pot, because he was sure no one had the Ace, only to have it show up in his opponent’s hand.  
Mr. Hutchinson was a typical railroad baron. Hard, cold and calculating. But no intuition. When his hand was weak, he played weak. He would place tentative bets and constantly look at his spread of cards, as though he expected them to change for the better with each new glance. When his hand was strong, he was like a bull in the ring; charging forward with large bets and a fire in his eyes.  
Mac, well; he was Mac. This was his house and his game, and it wouldn’t do for the host to always win the pot. So Mac was there to have fun and create an atmosphere of camaraderie with his neighbors; You never knew when you might need a friend. Mac was loud, and boisterous, and downright irritating at times, but he knew how to put on a good game. The food was plentiful, the alcohol restrained, and the game honest. He was popular enough, and like Peterson, wasn’t too concerned about winning, unless a lot of his own money was on the line. Mac didn’t like to part with his own money.  
Heyes looked up from his mediocre hand and smiled at the other players. They were all looking at him, checking him out, figuring him out. What was his tell? Why was he here? Was he a ringer? Or was he really just an old time friend of Pat’s who happened to like playing poker? Heyes smiled to himself; try as they might, they wouldn’t find anything in his face.  
The evening progressed along. Platters piled high with sandwiches appeared out of nowhere, and disappeared almost as quickly. Beer was served to help with the sandwiches, but no hard alcohol was allowed, until after the game was done. It was a well-organized, playing machine, and pots came and went, with nobody really dominating the game. Snyder seemed to be winning more than his ability would support, but sometimes, luck simply falls into place, and anybody can have a good night.  
Having soaked up all the information he needed, Heyes began to play for real. His photographic memory kicked in, and he watched the cards like a hawk, though no one watching him would have been able to tell. He looked bored most of the time; his expression blank, and his features relaxed. No one could tell that his mind was flashing like quick silver, and that a question mark was slowly growing stronger and stronger, behind the warm chocolate eyes.  
Concern struggled to take over his focus. Was he losing his touch in this arena as well? Were all those drunken nights and knocks on the head affecting his ability to play poker, along with the other inconveniences of his new, secret affliction? A tingle of fear went through him, but he forced it down and brought his attention and his thoughts back to the cards. And yet, no matter how hard he focused, no matter how many times he counted it, the cards were not coming up the way he was expecting them to.   
Poker is a game of memory, and Heyes had always excelled at it. Even after a new shuffle, he usually had a good idea of what cards were coming his way, and where the other cards were going. With each new shuffle, with each new hand played, the cards would start out as he thought they would, but then, it was as though he lost track of them, as though a moment in time had eclipsed, and then, suddenly, there it would be! A card out of sequence. A card that wasn’t supposed to be there, yet there it was.   
Heyes was becoming uncomfortable; he was playing to win now, but he wasn’t winning, he was losing. Pot after pot. And Snyder was winning. Was it because there were a limited number of players in this game? Is that what was causing the cards to behave irrationally? Heyes was sure he had accounted for that in his calculations, and yet, something wasn’t right. Snyder shouldn’t be winning as regularly as he was, and Heyes certainly shouldn’t be losing! He watched every move the weasily little rancher made; looking for him to be palming a card, or playing partners with another man at the table. He couldn’t spot anything.  
He sent a glance over to Big Mac, and that rancher was watching him from under his eyebrows. Realization struck, and suddenly, Heyes knew why Mac had been willing to risk $20,000 just to get him into the game. The rancher knew there was a card sharp playing a con, and he knew, that as host of the game, it was his responsibility to weed the scoundrel out and send him packing. It was an insult upon his house and to his reputation, and he had no intentions of allowing it to go on.  
When you have Hannibal Heyes at your disposal, and you know what motivates him, you can make miracles happen. Even though meeting the young woman whom Heyes had taken as his wife, was part of Mac’s motivation for inviting the couple to come by during their honeymoon, the real reason behind it was to get Heyes here and into the game. He’d spot a problem within the first hour, and Mac knew that the ex-outlaw was an honest player. He might have been a crook and a conman in other aspects of his life, but when it came to poker, Heyes had his morals. He despised cheaters.  
Heyes drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out through pursed lips. All eyes turned to him, but Heyes simply looked back at them and grinned.  
“Everything’s fine, gentlemen,” he assured the group, as he picked up the deck for his turn at shuffling. “Time to start playing some poker.”  
“I thought that’s what we were playing,” Hutchinson growled.  
Heyes simply smiled at him and began to deal.  
Xxx  
“Would you like some tea while we visit?” Carlotta asked her guest.  
“That would be lovely, yes,” Miranda accepted.  
Sitting out in the courtyard, the evening was still bright and warm, but the intense heat of the afternoon was beginning to wan. Miranda sat back with a contented smile and allowed her senses to soak in the essence of this place. She had not seen the ranch before Carlotta had come to live here, but from what Hannibal said, a woman’s touch had improved the ranch, and the rancher, immensely.   
Tea arrived and was poured into delicate teacups, and then the two ladies were left to their visit.  
“How long have you and Mr. McCreedy been married?” Miranda asked her hostess.   
Carlotta smiled and cocked an eyebrow at her. “We have been married for eight years. It took some adjustment, as neither of us had been married before. We are both very stubborn people, but we have settled in and are agreeable on most things. I run the household, and my husband runs the ranch. We are very happy. You and Senor Smith have not been married long, and with a child at home and another on the way, it is a lot to handle. Are you adjusting?”  
Miranda sighed and stared off into the distance, as she thought about that question.  
“I think so,” she said. “Yes. I am. I love Hannibal very much. And our daughter. But it has been hard at times. He is so complex a man; sometimes I wonder who it is, I’m married to.”  
“Si, I can understand that,” Carlotta agreed. “He can be very charming, and persuasive. I wonder sometimes, how much truth he spoke, when he was playing matchmaker. I believe, he had ulterior motives for wanting us to marry.”  
Miranda perked up with interest. “Why? What could it possibly have to do with him?”  
“I do not know,” Carlotta admitted. “And I have decided that it does not matter, since all has turned out well. But I do believe that your husband is a very clever and possibly, a very devious man. When Mr. McCreedy admitted to me who he and his friend really were, I was not surprised. Did you not know who he was, when you married?”  
“Oh yes, of course I did,” Miranda assured her. “I knew who he was even before I met him, and I had convinced myself that I would not like him. I was still in mourning over the loss of my first husband, you see, so I put up walls around myself, to make sure that no one could get close.”  
“But, apparently, he did?”  
“Yes!” Miranda laughed.   
“You see? As I said; a charmer. I think, he is a man who is used to getting what he wants.”  
“Yes, he is,” Miranda concurred. “And yet, I was so careful. I thought I knew him so well before we married. But now.” She shrugged. “I don’t know.”  
“Do you think you have made a mistake?”  
“I hope not,” Miranda stated emphatically. “I do love him, with all my heart. Indeed, I love him more now, than when we married. But there is a dark side to him, and it frightens me sometimes.”  
“Yes,” Carlotta agreed. “But that can be said of many men. Perhaps it is simply that you are getting to know him better now, and you do not like all of what you see. Give it time. You are still newlywed. There is always adjustment. And, there is something else, I think.”  
“Something else? What?”  
“How far along are you?” Carlotta asked her.  
“Oh.” Miranda frowned, as she thought about the timing. “About three months, I think.”  
“Hmm,” Carlotta nodded sagely.  
“What?”  
“I have never had children,” Carlotta admitted. “So perhaps I am not one to say, and yet, I have seen it in others. When a woman is in your condition, especially for the first time, she seems to go through certain changes. She may become frightened more easily, or quicker to temper. Perhaps even insecure—jealousy over little things. Yes?”  
Miranda thought back to the re-union in Denver, and how jealous she had behaved over Hannibal’s ex-lover, Allie, even though the young woman was happily married and with two children of her own, with someone else. She cringed now, at the terrible things she had yelled at her husband, and she will never forget the regret of being the cause of their first all-out married fight.  
“You’re right,” she admitted. “There were times when I did behave irrationally. And it was before I even knew I was pregnant. Actually, it was my extreme behavior that tipped our doctor off, that I might be in the family way.”  
“Ah, yes.” Carlotta smiled and poured out more tea. “It seems to me, that a woman who is beginning her new family would naturally be very concerned about the security of her situation. A mother will want a man with her who is reliable and trustworthy. Someone who will provide, not just a safe home, but a nurturing one, free from fear and destitution.”  
“That would make sense,” Miranda agreed. “Naturally, a mother would want those things for her children.”  
“Naturally. So now, here you are, about to bring a new life into this world, and suddenly you are feeling fear and uncertainty. That perhaps you did not choose wisely?”  
“Oh dear,” Randa sighed. “So, you’re saying that much of what I am going through now, is simply because I’m pregnant?”  
Carlotta shrugged. “I am simply saying, that I have seen it many times before. Not only before, but even after the child arrives. Do not be concerned. I have observed that Senor Smith cares for you very much. I also noted how his eyes light up, when we were discussing your young daughter. There may be many layers to him, but I think, he tries to be a good man. Yes?”  
“Yes!” Miranda agreed whole-heartedly. “Thank you. You are the second, more experienced woman, to tell me that all will be well. That it is just me adjusting to a new marriage and a new family.”  
“Si. But not just you. I am sure Senor Smith is also going through his own difficulties. It is quite a change from his previous life.”  
Miranda laughed. “Yes. You’re quite right. We’ve both had to make some big adjustments. Thank you. I do feel better now. But, may I ask you one more question?”  
“Certainly.”  
“Why do you and your husband still refer to him by his alias?” Randa queried. “Mr. McCreedy has known all along who they were, and as you have already stated, he also told you.”  
Carlotta shook her head. “My husband did not inform me of their true identity, until he had no choice. I am not a fool. I knew there was some secret surrounding them, as their visits here were always brief and private. My husband rarely spoke of them, and often I did not even know they were coming, until they had been here and gone again. But their trials were very public—newsworthy, yes?”  
“Oh yes,” Miranda confirmed. “I was always aware of them, as my then husband was involved in banking and big business. I’m afraid they were quite a thorn in his side! But it wasn’t until their arrests and trials that their photographs were distributed. Up until then, very few people had any idea what they looked like. Even the descriptions on their wanted posters were insufficient, and in some cases, incorrect.”  
“I recognized them right away,” Carlotta told her. “And I confronted my husband, demanding that he tell me the truth. At first he denied that they were the same men, but as I said; I already suspected something, and I am no fool. He eventually admitted it, and the fact that he had known who they were, all along. But he had to keep it secret, even from me, because they had still been wanted men, and he did not want to jeopardize their freedom.” Carlotta paused here and smiled wisely. “I suspect it had more to do with him not wanting to relinquish the hold that he had over them. Knowing who they were was worth a lot of money. Yes?”  
“Yes, it was,” Miranda concurred. “I’m amazed that they never were betrayed. Honor among thieves, perhaps.”  
“Perhaps,” Carlotta agreed, though skeptically. “I know that in my husband’s case, he simply had use for them. In some ways, I was surprised that he helped them, but perhaps there is some friendship there now, and perhaps, even some respect. He certainly admires your husband’s abilities. Mr. McCreedy does not part with his money for just anyone.”  
“I must admit, I had noticed that,” Miranda agreed. “He is very thrifty.”  
Now, Carlotta laughed. “You are being polite.”  
“Of course,” Randa admitted, but then brought the topic back to her original question. “Still, you know who they are now, so why carry on with the deception?”  
“Even though I recognized them, once I saw their pictures, apparently there are others in this town, who did not,” Carlotta explained. “Only Mr. Peterson put two and two together, when he saw the photographs, but it seems that no one else did. Not even our town sheriff, but then, he never was a very bright man. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry remained separate people from Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones, and my husband preferred that it remained that way. So, even between ourselves, we continued to refer to them by their aliases. It made things much easier.”  
“Yes, of course,” Randa agreed. “I can see his point. Still, I wonder how much longer he will be able to maintain that deception. It’s bound to get out.”  
“Yes, it will. Perhaps, even tonight.”  
Randa’s brows went up. “Oh?” she asked, with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. “Is something up?”  
“Si, I believe there is,” Carlotta admitted. “But I do not know what. My husband does not confide in me, these things. But I am interested to know what outcome is of this game tonight. I suspect that breakfast will be an interesting meal in the morning.”  
Miranda smiled and nodded. “Hannibal suspected that Mac was up to something. It seems he is right—again!”  
“They know one another very well. Still, I do not think you need to be concerned. I suspect that my husband simply wishes to take advantage of your husband’s skill at the poker table. Why, I do not know.”  
“I think you are right,” Randa told her. “I think breakfast tomorrow is going to be very interesting.”  
Xxx  
The atmosphere in the game room was becoming more and more focused, as the evening wore on. Three hours into it and Heyes was still losing. He was down to $15,000 in front of him, and he still couldn’t spot the play. Snyder was winning big and doing an excellent job of looking extremely pleased with himself. Heyes struggled to figure the man out. Either he was a smoother player than his initial ability had suggested, or he was having a run of exceptional good luck. Heyes wasn’t buying either one. And not being a smooth player in an honest game, pretty much cancelled out his ability to be smooth enough to cover a play so well, that Hannibal Heyes couldn’t spot it.  
He was getting frustrated, even though he knew that the first rule of a professional gambler was to never let the play of the cards get to you. Don’t get full of yourself when it went in your favor, as Snyder was doing, and don’t allow frustration to cloud your focus when lady luck looked the other way. Poker wasn’t a game of luck, it was a game of observation and skill, and Hannibal Heyes was a master at it. Reminding himself of this, he took a deep breath and relaxed. He then realized that he had been focusing too much on Snyder. Snyder was not the problem. It was time to re-direct his attention to the other players.  
He felt pretty safe in ignoring Peterson. The man wasn’t subtle enough to be a card-sharp and besides, he was Mac’s business partner, and, as bankers go, relatively honest. As for Masson, again, Heyes eliminated him fairly quickly. He was a good and honest player and didn’t strike Heyes as the type of man who would come in to a neighbor’s game and cheat. Heyes was hoping that his belief in this wasn’t solely based on the fact that he had liked the man. He told himself to still keep an eye on him, just in case.  
Then his attention slid over to the one man at the table for whom he had an instant dislike for. The retired railroad baron, Hutchinson. Again, Heyes wondered if it was simply his first impressions of the man, and of his previous profession, that made him want to suspect him. And yet, even though Heyes’ first impressions were not always correct, they were correct often enough for him to pay attention to them. He would be watching Hutchinson.  
Another hour went by, and Heyes was down to $10,000, but he wasn’t worried about that. Now that he realized his true purpose for being included in this game, his focus had shifted from winning, to weeding out the cheat. Now that he had eliminated Snyder as the culprit, he went back to the basic rules for cheating at poker. Usually, any cheating that might be taking place, was done by the one holding the deck. Everyone took their turn at shuffling, but now Heyes paid closer attention to each player, as their turn came up.  
Everyone had their own technique when it came to shuffling the deck. Mac was straight forward about it. He’d set the deck down with intend, in front of the player to his right, who just happened to be Peterson. Peterson would cut it, Mac would stack the two halves back together, with the bottom half now on top, shuffle the deck and deal. He wouldn’t say a word, just chaw on his cigar and meet the eye of every man, as he dealt him his card. Done.  
Peterson almost made a joke of it, he was so unconcerned with the outcome. He’d smile and greet each player as he flicked them their cards, and the proceeding hand would carry on as usual. Masson was polite and efficient. Snyder was nervous and bumbling, often fumbling the shuffle. This, at first was another reason why Heyes suspected him. Pretending to fumble the shuffle was a good way to hide a slight of hand, but, as stated, Heyes quickly realized that Snyder was simply no good at poker, and that he wasn’t trying to hide anything, other than his own incompetence.  
Then there was Hutchinson. He was talkative throughout his shuffle. Heyes had found it irritating, but now he found it interesting. When Hutchinson’s turn came around again, Heyes watched him intently through a relaxed gaze. The railroad man set the pack down in front of Masson, who was to his right, and then began his usual bantering. It was casual chatter, some joke or snide comment directed towards whoever had won the previous hand. Everyone’s attention would be diverted towards the focus of the comment, and by the time eyes turned back to Hutchinson, the deck was shuffled and being dealt out.  
Heyes had been just as guilty as the others, of allowing his attention to be diverted. This was supposed to be a friendly game. But now, he pulled his own con. Pretending to glance over to Snyder along with everyone else, he raised his hand up to scratch his temple, and was able to sneak a look at Hutchinson through slightly separated fingers.  
Masson cut the deck. Hutchinson picked up the top half and transferred it to his left hand. Then he picked up the bottom half and put the two halves together. And this was where he made his play. Instead of switching the bottom half of the deck to the top, he put them back together in the same order as before the cut, so having put his previous hand of cards onto the top of the deck before having them cut, he now knew what chards were on top. Even after a shuffle, he would know what cards were going to come up, and where. Include a little bit of palming of undesirable cards, and this move gave him a lot of control over who would get what cards.  
It also explained why the cards were not showing up in the order that Heyes had expected them to. He was so relieved that he wasn’t losing his edge, he almost blew his cover by smiling.  
Now that he knew who was manipulating the deck, and how, all he had to do was sit back and watch to see which way the hand played out. He expected to see a pattern start to emerge, and his attention was focused once again, upon Snyder. Were Hutchinson and Snyder playing doubles, or was Snyder the hapless victim of Hutchinson’s play? Heyes figured he already knew the answer to that one. He picked up the cards dealt to him, and settled in to play a new kind of game.  
The rounds were made numerous times, with each player adding to the pot according to how well their hands were playing out. Heyes bet conservatively; he knew he wasn’t going to win this one, and he wanted to keep his focus on the other players. His main concern was that Mac wasn’t going to give anything away. The big rancher knew that Heyes was onto the scent and was watching him almost as intently as Heyes was watching Snyder. But Heyes was better at it. He dared not make eye contact with his host, as Hutchinson might pick up on it and realize that he was under observation. Heyes wanted Hutchinson to be relaxed and confident that he was still in control.  
The pot was getting bigger and bigger. Everyone was eyeing everyone else in the hope of picking up any hints of a tell. Heyes smiled to himself. If they hadn’t figured out whose tell belonged to who yet, then it was doubtful they’d recognize it, now that the heat was on. Heyes watched Snyder, waiting for his tell to come. And then, there it was. Snyder licked his lips, as he glanced at the pot in the middle of the table, and then he snuck another look at the cards in his hand. The right eyebrow went up.  
Heyes felt realization come to him. He knew what Hutchinson was doing now. The pot was huge—the biggest it’d been all night. The amount in front of Snyder was substantial, but his previous few hands had been low, so he hadn’t been betting high on them. He had been letting the smaller pots go to others in the game. Peterson and Hutchinson, not surprisingly, had both been falling behind, but then caught up with Snyder as he was being shut out. Most of the players were accepting this turn of events, as lady luck finally running out on him, but Heyes knew better.  
Snyder was indeed being set up. Give him hands that would get him winning all night. Get him used to betting big and winning, then snatch it away from him, just when it mattered the most. Start giving him bad hands, so bad that even he wouldn’t dare bet on them, and risk losing his large pile of winnings. This would also give the others in the game opportunity to catch up and start betting bigger themselves so that the pot continued to grow exponentially. Then, when the pot was big enough to satisfy even Hutchinson’s greed, and Snyder’s frustration at having his winning streak come to an end was reaching its peak, give him another hand that just couldn’t lose, and watch him explode.  
It was playing out right in front of Heyes’ eyes. Snyder’s thoughts were like fire written on his forehead. If he bet everything in front of him, he’d shut out all but one other player, and the chances of that man having a better hand than Snyder’s, were slim. But was he courageous enough to take that chance? Lose the bet, and he’d lose everything. But win it, and he’d walk away with $82,000. No one had walked away with that much money before, not from one of these games. They’d stop laughing at him then.  
Heyes’ eyes slid over to Hutchinson. As intended, he was the only other man in the game who had won enough in the last three hands to challenge Snyder for the pot. That man was watching Snyder like a wolf waiting for the chicken to come out of the hen house. Silence settled over the game like a suffocating blanket, and all eyes were on Snyder. It was his move, and he knew it. Everyone else had already folded, everyone but Hutchinson.  
Finally, the decision was made. Heyes had seen it, even before Snyder knew it himself. The weasily rancher bit his lower lip and pushed everything he had in front of him into the middle of the table.  
“I’ll meet your $5000 bet and raise you another $17,000.”  
Hutchinson smiled and pushed in his own $17,000. “Call.”  
Snyder smiled with confidence; he knew he had this won. Placing his cards on the table, he spread them and showed his hand. Everyone sucked their teeth and a few quiet whistles made the rounds. It looked as though Snyder’s original run of luck had returned.   
It was an excellent hand, and a good bet to win, but it wasn’t going to. Heyes knew all along that it wouldn’t. Snyder had been set up and played, and he was going to lose.  
Hutchinson didn’t even smile. His eyes turned hard and cold, like a shark tasting blood, as he set his own cards on the table and spread them out.  
“Not good enough,” he stated.  
Silence, once again, covered the room. Snyder went white as a ghost, not wanting to believe his eyes. The only hand that could have beat his, was staring him in the face. Hutchinson did smile then, and he reached out his hands to rake in the large pot for himself.  
“STOP!”  
Everyone jumped, and all eyes turned to Heyes.  
“What do ya’ mean, stop?” Hutchinson complained. “This is my pot.”  
Heyes sent the railroad man a smile that didn’t come from his eyes. Hutchinson felt a chill go through him, and suddenly he recognized this man sitting across the table from him. How could he have not seen it before? A deep dread settled over him, as he mustered what courage he had to remain in control. Hannibal Heyes did not take his eyes off of him.  
“Mac?” Heyes said.  
“Yeah.”  
“Will any of your servants still be up?”  
“Well, there’s one way to find out,” Mac stated, and picking up the servant bell, he rang it loudly three or four times.  
No more than a moment passed when the door opened, and Carlotta stuck her head in.  
“Why are you ringing for servants now?” she asked her husband. “They have all retired for the evening, as we are about to do.”  
“What do you mean, retired!?” Mac bellowed. “They can’t retire on poker night!”  
“Do not be ridiculous!” Carlotta shot back. “Just because you men are foolish enough to stay up all hours, playing a silly game, does not mean that the whole household must do so.”  
“A silly game?” Mac retorted. “Just because you don’t…”  
“Mac,” Heyes interrupted this marital jousting match. “Is Miranda here?”  
“Yes,” came Miranda’s voice from almost directly behind him.  
Heyes’ smile turned from one of dangerousness, to one of relief. “Good. I want you to go around to every player here and write down what cards they each have in front of them.”  
“Now, wait just a minute…”  
With a flick of his wrist, the small derringer hidden in his sleeve holster was in Heyes’ hands before Hutchinson could finish his protest. There were gasps around the table at the unexpectedness of this event, and it was now Hutchinson’s turn to fade from flustered red to white as a ghost.  
“Now, everybody just relax,” Mac advised the group. “Most of you may not have noticed, or maybe you were too polite to say, but there has been some hanky panky going on here at this table, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it! Now, if you’ll just do what Smith here asks, we can put an end to this nonsense.”  
Hutchinson suddenly saw hope at the end of his tunnel. Grasping at the one bit of information he thought that he was the only one privy to, he threw it out there in an attempt to divert accusations of cheating away from himself.  
“Smith, my ass!” he stated loudly. “That man is Hannibal Heyes!”  
Instantly the table was in an uproar.  
“What!?” Masson exclaimed as chair legs scrapped across the floor, and people came to their feet. “Is that right, Mac? You brought a known outlaw and card sharp into this game?”  
“What were you thinking?” Snyder demanded to know, feeling that he was being ganged up on. “You brought in a ringer!?”  
Hutchinson sat back with a satisfied smile on his face, enjoying the upheaval he had created. Peterson was also sitting back and watching the fireworks, as he always enjoyed a good show. But he also knew that Hutchinson was sunk, and this little diversion wasn’t going to save him.  
Heyes sat quietly, his derringer still aimed unerringly at Hutchinson’s chest. He could feel Miranda’s hands on his shoulders, and knew by her firm grip that she was there to back him up through whatever transpired here.  
Mac raised his hands to quiet the accusations.  
“Everyone settle down!” he bellowed out. “Sit back in your chairs, and I’ll tell you what’s going on.”  
There was some hesitation as those standing looked at one another, and then over at the infamous outlaw in their midst. Curiosity took over indignation and the room quieted down. Hutchinson felt himself losing control again, but a quick glance at that unwavering derringer, and the hardness in the ex-outlaw’s eyes, kept him silent.  
“Good,” Mac stated. “Now, to answer your questions. No, I didn’t bring a ringer into the game. A ringer would suggest that I had planned on cheating in my own house. I knew there was something going on here, and I brought in a private detective to root it out!” Hutchinson snorted at that comment, but was generally ignored. “Yes, I did know that this man is Hannibal Heyes. I’ve known him and his partner, Curry, for a number of years now. I helped Curry get his amnesty, and Heyes to get his parole. I’ve used them for a lot of jobs, and they’ve always come through for me. Now Heyes here is no card sharp. Nope. He’s just a damn good player! And an honest one at that! He’s also a far sight better one than anybody else who professes to be the same. I figured, if I needed someone to solve my little problem here, then I might as well bring in the best. Don’t you agree?”  
There was some mumbling around the table, but generally everyone nodded agreement.  
“Good!” Mac continued, then he turned and actually smiled at Miranda. “Ma’am.”  
Miranda nodded. She was surprised at her lack of nervousness in this situation. There was her husband, with cold intent in his manner, pointing a gun at another man, and yet, she was not afraid. She felt confident and secure, knowing that Hannibal would not let anything happen her. Carlotta had gone to the office and now returned with a pencil and a sip of paper. She handed these items to Miranda who then dutifully went around to all the players, and wrote down each man’s hand.  
“Good,” Heyes said, and smiled at his wife. “Now, if you would collect up all the cards and give them to me.”   
Miranda complied, and returning the cards to her husband, she stood behind him again and waited to see how this would transpire. She was feeling immensely proud of her man right now, and had a hard time hiding the pleased smile from her face.  
Heyes smiled around at the players, and standing up, he set the derringer down on the table beside him, and he began to set out all the cards in the deck according to their suits. Once all the cards in the deck had been laid out, everyone but Heyes, was surprised that there were still two cards left over. Heyes’ grin grew, as he set down an extra King and an extra Ace. Cards that Hutchinson had used to pepper the hand of whoever he was setting up. Angry muttering began to grow again, and dark, accusing eyes were turned towards Hutchinson.  
“That doesn’t prove anything!” the ex-railroad baron protested. “Anyone could have put those in there.” His face contorted with anger, and his courage bolstered by the ex-outlaw being now unarmed, he made the mistake of jumping up and pointing an accusing finger in Heyes’ face. “You probably just did it yourself to try and prove…”  
Heyes reacted instantly and grabbed the outstretched hand. Pulling Hutchinson in closer to him, he rolled the man’s wrist over and slipping his nimble fingers under the sleeve cuff, neatly pulled out a fifth Queen.  
The room erupted once again, with the scrapping of chairs and more angry cursing coming from the players.  
“Settle down!” Mac bellowed once again. “You forget that there are ladies present!”   
Instant silence followed this reminder, and shameful looks flitted back and forth between the two ladies.  
“Pardon,” Masson was quick to apologize.  
“Yes, we were too hasty.” Snyder agreed. “Excuse us, ladies.”  
Miranda simply smiled and nodded her acceptance.  
“You are excused,” Carlotta told them. “I understand that emotions can run high. There is a lot of money at stake here.”  
They all looked down at the large pot still sitting in the middle of the table.  
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Mac assured his guests. “We know what cards everyone was holding, and we’ll divvy up the pot accordingly.”  
“Oh, well…”  
“Yes, that is most fair.”  
“In the meantime, Mr. Hutchinson will remain my guest until the morning, when we can have a conversation with the sheriff,” Mac continued. “I’m sure he’ll want to have a word with each of you in due course. As for the poker game, I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one night. Cognac, anyone?”  
Peterson started to chuckle, then he snorted and chortled, and finally he leaned back in his chair and set loose his bellowing laughter that deafened the ears and rattled the chandelier.   
Xxx  
The following morning turned out to be a late start for everyone. A man was sent early on to get the sheriff from town to come out and collect the prisoner, but he had yet to return. In the meantime, Big Mac was bubbling over with curiosity, if one dared to imagine such a thing, and was insisting on hearing Heyes’ statement first thing over their late brunch of scrambled eggs with salsa, and strong coffee.  
“I still can’t see how Hutchinson was doing it,” Mac grumbled. “And you know how I hate loose ends. How did you know he had those extra cards in the deck?”  
“Can’t it wait until the sheriff gets here?” Heyes asked. “You know how I hate repeating myself.”  
“No! Dag blast it! It can’t wait!” Mac insisted. “That man is so slow; he may not get here until late afternoon. I want to know now!”  
Heyes sent a sly smile to his wife, and she rolled her eyes, knowing that her husband was intentionally egging their host on.  
“Would you like some more coffee?” Carlotta asked her guests. “And some eggs, perhaps?”  
“Oh yes, thank you,” Heyes accepted. “That would be nice.”  
Carlotta summoned Juanita to bring refills for everyone.  
“Damn the eggs!” Mac bellowed as his fist came down on the table. “This is my house, and I want to know what was going on. Now!”  
“Well,” Heyes began, as he dabbed his mouth with the napkin. “If you’re going to insist…”  
Juanita arrived with the trolley and began to pour out more coffee in all the cups, and then offered another serving of eggs and salsa from the covered serving platter.  
“Oh, thank you,” Heyes smiled up at the young servant girl. “The eggs are excellent.”  
She smiled shyly and nodded her thanks.  
“Yes, they are very good,” Miranda agreed. “I think I will have some more as well.”  
“Si, Senora.”  
The trolley was rolled around to Miranda’s placing, and more eggs were served out. Mac was about fit to burst, but even he wouldn’t interrupt a lady who was a guest in his house.  
“I believe that I will have some more as well,” Carlotta announced. “It seems that being up so late has increased my appetite for breakfast.” The trolley, once again, was put into motion as the servant made her rounds. “I believe that Mr. McCreedy would also like another helping.”  
Juanita sent a nervous glance over to the man of the house, being well aware that he was all set to blow up. But she knew her job, and she accepted her fate. She quickly completed the rounds of the table and made a hasty retreat.  
“Alright!” Mac stated. “Everyone’s taken care of. So now, tell me.”  
Heyes sent him an indignant look. “While I’m eating?” he asked over a mouthful.  
“HEYES!” Heyes’ brows went up at the use of his legal name. “I’m beginning to understand why the reward posted on you was so high! I should have left ya’ in prison…!”  
“Alright, alright,” Heyes placated the big man. “I didn’t realize it was that important to ya’, Mac. You should have said something.”  
“Hannibal,” Miranda laughingly cut in. “That’s enough. To be honest, I’m curious too. Come on, tell us.”  
He smiled over at his wife. “Alright.”  
“Finally!” Mac announced. “Now, how did he do it?”  
“Well, you were right in suspecting that this has been coming on for a while now,” Heyes began. “I think Hutchinson was coming in to the games with those three extra cards every week, in order to practice and get his technique down pat. The smaller game last night would have made it even easier for him to keep track of his play, and so he decided to go for the real thing.”  
“Mm hmm,” Mac agreed. “That was the plan.”  
“Oh,” Heyes nodded. “Well, it worked. Poor Snyder was being set up perfectly. Hutchinson handed him a high card every time he was dealing, and Snyder was so happy to actually be winning for a change, that he didn’t even think to question it.  
“Then, when the hand was played and the cards brought in to the deck again, Hutchinson simply held back one of his own cards, so the deck would never come up heavy. He was taking a chance that five cards of the same suit might show up in the one play, but he was pretty quick to get the extra face card out again, as soon as he could.  
“It was sloppy really. Anyone paying close attention to the cards would know there was something going on. Throwing those extra cards out there like that, messed up the sequence of all the other cards being dealt. It would start out with the cards showing up, just as I expected them to, then suddenly, it’d change and everything was off. I couldn’t figure out what was happening at first, or who was doing it. Of course, Snyder was the big winner, so he was the obvious suspect, but he was too excited when he won, and too disappointed when he lost. If he’d been the one controlling the cards, he would have been hiding it a bit better than that.  
“So, I started watching the other players. Then I saw the set-up, plain as day, and could see the close coming on a mile away. All I had to do was wait until Hutchinson laid his cards on the table, and I knew I had him.   
“I suggest you check everyone from now on, Mac. Make sure nobody’s bringing in things to the game that they shouldn’t be.”  
Mac huffed. “I don’t want to insult my company.”  
“Why not?” Heyes asked with a shrug. “You did it to me and the Kid all the time.”  
“You boys weren’t company,” Mac pointed out. “You’re family. Now more than ever. That gives me the right to insult ya’.”  
Heyes almost choked on his eggs. He sent a look to Miranda, and she twinkled back at him.  
“Family, huh?” Heyes finally managed to get out. Then he sent a dimpled smile over to Carlotta. “Does that mean you’ll agree to Alejandro covering my mare?”   
Before Carlotta had the chance to respond to the cheeky inquiry, the group was interrupted by the arrival of one of Mac’s employees.  
“Oh, Mike,” Mac acknowledged him. “What’s the word?”  
“Sheriff Richards will be out later this afternoon, sir.”  
“See! I told ya’!” Mac reminded them all. “Laziest man I ever knew. I suppose we ought to feed the prisoner.”  
“It has already been seen to,” Carlotta informed him.  
“Ah! Not too well, I hope.”  
Carlotta simply smiled and ignored the implication.  
“Is that all, Mr. McCreedy?”  
“Oh yes. Carry on.”  
“Sir.”  
Mike turned to leave, but Heyes caught his attention.  
“Ah, Mike,” he said. “Did you happen to check for telegrams while you were in town?”  
“Yes sir,” Mike answered him. “There weren’t any today.”  
“Oh. Okay, thanks.” Mike nodded and left, while Heyes frowned. “That’s odd. The Kid sends a message for me to contact him as soon as we get here, and then we don’t hear back from him? What’s going on this time?”  
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Mac told him. “He’ll get in touch, when he’s ready.”  
Heyes smiled, but the look that he and Miranda exchanged was not so worry free.  
Xxx

Colorado  
“Here!” Jed exclaimed as he examined the ground on the far side of the empty chicken coop.  
“Here!” Joe echoed the announcement from the other side of the ranch house.  
Both men stood up from their examinations of the ground, and stared at one another.  
“Damn!” Joe cursed. “They must have separated.”  
“Well,” Jed scratched his chin, as the two men led their horses towards one another. “Which one is heading towards Deke’s Canyon?”  
“Both, actually,” Joe informed him. “Your tracks would get you there faster, but these ones are an easier trail.”  
Both men stood for a moment, hands on hips, and contemplated their situation.  
“We could split up,” Jed suggested. “If either track starts veering away from the Canyon, then we could rendezvous and follow the right track.”  
“They’re both the right track, as far as I’m concerned,” Joe pointed out, his jaw tight with determination. “From what you told me, Courtney was arranging to get money to her father and brothers, and that’s aiding and abiding. And they both attempted to kidnap Sally. By the law, they’re both accountable at this point, and neither one of them can be allowed to get away.”  
“Yeah, ya’ got a point there,” Jed conceded. “So I guess we split up.”  
Joe nodded. “I’ll take this one, and you take that one. But I want both of them in custody. No matter where your trail goes, you follow it and bring them in, whoever it is.”  
“Yeah, but what if you come across the whole family up there?” Jed asked, now thinking twice about his suggestion that they split up. “You’re gonna need back up.”  
“I’ll handle it!” Joe insisted. “I don’t want anybody getting away! The whole damn family is involved in this, as far as I’m concerned, and none of them are getting off the hook! Including this bastard who has gone into cahoots with them! Follow your trail, and don’t let him get away from you!”  
“Yeah, yeah, alright Joe,” Jed agreed, backing away from Joe’s anger. “I just don’t want to see ya’ get hurt, is all. We’re all close to this, but you’re closer than most, and I don’t wanna see you go runnin’ off halfcocked. That’s how people get killed. Maybe we should stay together after all, and we’ll worry about the other one later.”  
“No,” Joe was adamant. “We don’t know which trail is going to lead us to Baird. It could be either one, or both. We split up.”  
“I just don’t think,,,”  
“I’m the law man here!” Joe persisted. “We split up, and that’s an end to it!”  
Jed set back and sighed. He could understand where Joe was coming form. He was hurtin’ so bad that he was lashing out at anybody who appeared to be standing in his way.”  
“Okay,” Jed quietly agreed. “We’ll do it your way. But keep your eyes open. And don’t go trackin’ ‘em after dark. They gotta stop too.”  
“We still got a few hours left of daylight,” Joe pointed out. “We should be onto them by then.”  
“Yeah, I know. I’m just sayin’; be careful.”  
“I will. You too.”  
“Alright.”  
Both men mounted their horses and parted company. The tracks were plain as day and easy to follow, but this only made Jed all the more uneasy.  
Xxx  
“They’ve changed direction again,” Wheat announced as he swung back aboard his horse. “Almost looks as though they don’t want to leave home territory.”  
“Maybe,” Sam commented. “But they could also be trying to stay where they have some cover. If they’d carried on in that direction, they would be coming into the burned out area. Kind ‘a hard to stay hidden when there’s no trees or foliage.”  
“Good point,” Lom conceded. “You fellas know this area better than we do. Is there some place over this direction where they might find a hide-a-way, or maybe even help? Do the Bairds’ have any friends within riding distance?”  
A number of snorts came in response to this question.  
“Weren’t nobody cared much for the Bairds’,” Floyd commented. “And sure not enough to risk their own lives to help ‘em out with this pickle.”  
“They did have some drifter come and work for them every year, around this time,” Clancy offered. “Damned if I can remember his name though. He probably don’t even know what’s going on, and if he did, he’d have skedaddled. I’d say they’re on their own in this.”  
“They could be headed towards Deke’s Canyon,” Bernie suggested. “Curtis and I used to play up in there…” Bernie’s voice trailed off, and he coughed to cover the catch in his throat. Those who had been looking at him, now turned away, to give him a moment to compose himself.  
“Carson’s Bluff could be a good spot, too,” Kurt offered. “Lots of cover still left up there.”  
“Yeah, but no water,” Sam pointed out. “If they’re looking for a place to hole up for the night, the canyon has good cover and water. Lots of rabbits and such in there, too. Many’s the time, I brought supper home from that area.”  
“Well, we’re not getting anywhere, standing here, jawin’ about it,” Lom pointed out. “The best way to find out where they’re headed, is to follow the tracks. So let’s get goin’.”  
“They sure is makin’ it easy for us, ain’t they?” Wheat commented. “Man! If this had been me, you’d a lost my tracks miles back.”  
“And you’re complaining about that?” Lom asked him, as they moved the horses out. “With any luck, we’ll have these fellas rounded up and in a jail cell by this time tomorrow.”  
“Uh huh,” Wheat agreed. “As Preacher used to say, ‘Praise the Lord for man’s stupidity’.”  
Xxx  
Courtney muttered obscenities under her breath as she pushed her horse along the obscure trail that would take them to the canyon. Even if she’d had any concern at all about being followed, her current state of mind pushed caution to the wind. Trotting along the track, she ducked and leaned to avoid being brushed off by low hanging branches, skirted around rocks and over fallen trees and left a track so easy to follow that a blind man with one leg could have kept up with her.  
“Damn men!” she cursed, causing her mare’s ears to flick back with concern. Courtney gave her a jab with her heels to keep her going forward. “If ya’ want something done right, ya’ gotta do it yourself!” she continued to mutter. “That’s the last time Luke gets any money from this family. Dirty, low down, no good, drifter. I never could see what Pa saw in him. Ask him to do one simple little job for me, and a mangy mutt and a damn kid are all it takes to scare ‘im off! It’s not like I want to have anything more to do with those idiots I’m forced to call family. Give them some money to disappear, and that would be the end of it. But noooo! Luke’s gotta turn tail and run. Coward!”  
She shivered involuntarily as she thought of having to be in her father’s company again. “That bastard better not lay hands on me. I swear, I’ll kill him myself this time, if he tries it. Once this is done, I am out of here. And I won’t sell out, the way Isabelle did. No sir! Not me! Tying myself down to some bumbling idiot, just to get away. That’s not getting away! That’s just jumping from the frying pan into the fire. I swear, I think I’m the only one in this family who’s got any brains at all…” And so on and so on, as she pushed the horse as fast as she could go on the uneven terrain.  
Xxx  
Jed rode quickly, but quietly through the woods, easily following the trail that the mare was leaving behind her. Stopping periodically to check the tracks, Jed surmised that the horse was carrying the lighter of the two people, and that Joe was following the stranger.  
Thinking about that, he wondered which one of them had the more dangerous quarry. He didn’t know Courtney well, as she spent much of her time living with her aunt, and when she was in town, she avoided men like the plague. Whereas Isabelle had always been a shameless flirt, Courtney was the epitome of a disdainful spinster. Courtney was not limited by any pretenses of decorum or feminine behavior and was bound to fight like a cornered mountain lion, if Jed didn’t handle this correctly  
Jed shook his head as he allowed his inner thoughts to take over, while his senses were still tuned in on his surroundings. What was it with Kyle? He always seemed to try courtin’ the worst kind of woman. Nine times out of ten, they were just tolerating him, or using him for God knows what. It’s not like he was rich, or handsome, and goodness knows, he wasn’t hygienic in any sense of the word. Why Courtney even gave him the time of day was a mystery, unless it was some ploy to get back at her father in some way. Thank goodness Kyle saw the writing in the trash, and decided to steer clear of her.   
Coming to a clearing on level ground, Jed stopped Gov to not only give the young gelding a chance to catch his breath, but to give himself the opportunity to get his bearings. The fire hadn’t touched this section of the range and the cool dampness in the air, made it breathe fresh and clean. The earthy scent of dirt and wood and green foliage fill his nostrils. Even at that, Jed could still feel the tightness in his lungs and every once and a while, a cough would escape him, and the burning ache of scorched lungs would surround him, like a vice squeezing his chest.  
Looking up at the grey sky, he hoped again that it would not rain. Even if he caught up with Courtney now, there would not be time to get back to town before darkness fell. The last thing Jed wanted to do, was try to make their way back down to civilization in the dark. Especially with what was likely to be an unwilling companion. Spending a night alone in this chill, with that same companion, was only marginally the lesser of two evils.  
He unscrewed the cap on his canteen and took a couple of swallows to ease his throat. He then gave Gov a pat on the neck and gently brought the horse’s head up from the tasty patch of grass, he had been indulging in.  
“C’mon, young friend,” he said. “Let’s get goin’. One way or another, a couple a more hours and we’ll bed down for the night.”  
Xxx  
“Why are we goin’ in circles, Pa?” Seth asked, as he gave the mule an extra tug on the lead shank. “Shouldn’t we be headin’ deeper to the hills?”  
Baird shook his head at the idiocy of his sons. “What did I always tell you boys?”  
Seth thought about it for a moment. Finally, he shrugged. “I donno.”  
Baird snorted. “It seems your mother’s children got stupider with each one she popped out. Emmett! Tell yer brother what I always told ya’.”  
“You told us lots ‘a stuff, Pa,” Emmett pointed out. “Which one ya’ talkin’ about?”  
“About what to do if’n there’s trouble, and we get separated!” Baird yelled back, wondering why he even bothered to have children.  
“Oh yeah,” Emmett recalled. “If we was to get separated, we was to all meet up at Deke’s Canyon.”  
“But we ain’t separated,” Seth pointed out. “We’s together.”  
“Yeah?” asked Baird. “So where’s your sister?”  
“Ain’t she on her honeymoon?” Seth asked.  
“Your other sister, ya’ imbecile!”  
Seth hung his head. He couldn’t understand why his pa was always yellin’ at him. “I didn’t think they counted,” he grumbled.  
“Yer right about that,” Baird managed to praise him, and Seth smiled with the recognition. “Under normal circumstances, neither of them trollops would count. But these is extenuatin’ circumstances.” Both boys frowned, wishing their pa wouldn’t use words they didn’t understand. “Isabelle would ‘a been useless, but Court—she’ll come through. I know damn well that she has money. She always does. I never pushed to find out how she got it, but it ain’t like I don’t know, is it? Both ‘a them girls is trash—just like their ma. Still, I kind ‘a figured that sooner or later, that money would come in handy. And I was right, weren’t I?”  
“But how do ya’ know she’ll show, Pa?” Emmett asked. “What makes ya’ think that she’ll just hand over her money to us?”  
“Cause we’re family, that’s why!” Baird shouted back at them, causing his horse to spook. “Dammit! She either shows up in our hour ‘a need, or I’ll track her down myself and rip that lily white skin off ’a her while she’s still alive and screamin’! We’re family—dammitt!”  
The two boys sent doubtful glances to one another, but kept their mouths shut. There was nothin’ good to be had by gettin’ their pa too riled up.  
Xxx  
“Looks like they are heading towards Deke’s Canyon,” Sam surmised. “It can’t be more than another forty minutes, so I expect they’ll bed down there.”  
“Yup,” Lom agreed. “We go slow and quiet. Give ‘em time to settle in, then we can surround ‘em and take ‘em, easy.”  
“Yeah, sure. If there’s enough cover,” Wheat mused. “Maybe me and Ames can go on ahead, and scout it out.”  
“Yeah,” Lom agreed. “Go ahead, but stay out ‘a sight. Get their position, and come back. Don’t be heroes.”  
“In case you ain’t noticed yet, I know what I’m doin’, Lom,” Wheat snarked. “If a day comes when I can’t sneak up on these yahoos, then I’ll just hang up my holster and retire.”  
“Just make sure that day don’t come sooner than ya’ think,” Lom countered. “Be careful.”  
“Yeah, yeah. C’mon Ames. Let’s go.”  
The grin on Ames’ face spread from ear to ear. Wheat was his hero, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to prove himself worthy in that man’s eyes. Lately, all he seemed to be doing was irritating him. But he knew he could do better. He would do better.  
Giving his horse a nudge, he trotted after his benefactor.  
“Okay men,” Lom said to the remaining posse. “Keep it slow, and keep it quiet. Move out.”   
Xxx  
“Where are they?” Ames asked.  
“Shh,” Wheat told him. “Be quiet. They’re just up ahead.”  
“Do you want me to circle around?”  
“No,” Wheat declined the offer. “You ain’t getting’ out ‘a my sight. We’ll tie the horses here, and walk in closer. Maybe we can get an idea of what they’re plannin’.”  
“Looks ta’ me like they’s makin’ camp.”  
“Yeah, well I just wanna be sure, alright?” Wheat snarked in a whisper. “Now be quiet.”  
The two men dismounted, and finding a couple of sturdy tree branches, they tied their horses and began to slowly make their way closer to the clearing. Wheat moved silently, slinking his way through the foliage like a cougar stalking its prey, but Ames had yet to develop that most important of elusive skills. Wheat cringed every time he heard a twig snap or a leaf rustle.  
Finally, he’d had enough, and he turned to glare back at the younger man. He put a finger up to his lips and silently shushed him. Ames frowned and shrugged. He didn’t understand what he was doing wrong; as far as he was concerned, he was being quiet. Wheat sighed and shook his head.   
Deciding that it was too risky to try and get any closer with all the racket his cohort was making, Wheat hunkered down and tried to pick up on the conversation that was going on in the clearing. He finally gave up on it. Though they could hear the muffled voices, the words themselves remained stubbornly obscure, and only the body language gave Wheat any clues about what was going on.  
“Shouldn’t we be headin’ back to the others?” Ames whispered.  
Wheat shook his head again and motioned for continued silence. Ames slumped, but set back on his heels to await orders from his leader.  
After a few minutes, Wheat suddenly tensed and straightened up just a tad.  
“What the hell?” he quietly questioned.  
“What?” Ames whispered.  
“I knew they was up ta’ somthin’,” he answered. “Ole’ man Baird is getting’ ready ta’ leave.”  
“What? On his own?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Where’s he goin’?”  
“How the hell should I know?” Wheat snarked, his voice still quiet, but raising in its tone. “Listen, you go back and get the others. I’m gonna follow Baird.”  
“Maybe he’s just goin’ huntin’, you know; for food.”  
“Yeah, and maybe he’s goin’ ta’ meet up with somebody.” Wheat pointed out. “Now git. And be quiet.”  
Xxx  
In the clearing, the three men went about the business of preparing camp, but Emmett wasn’t being complacent about it. He was jittery.  
“You sure this is a good idea, Pa?” he asked, as he started building a fire. “Courtney ain’t got no love fer us. If she shows at all, maybe she’s bringin’ the law with her.”  
“That girl ain’t got the brains ta’ double cross us,” Baird growled. “She’ll either show with the money, or not show at all.”  
“So we just stay here like sittin’ ducks and wait?” Emmett complained. “As far as I’m concerned, we should keep on ridin’ and make camp someplace, that she don’t know about.”  
“Then what will we do fer money, ya. idiot?” Baird countered. “We need money ta’ disappear. We also gotta set up another meetin’ time, so that when she sells that worthless ranch, we can get even more money. It’s worth the risk.”  
“I say, it ain’t,” Emmett insisted. “Even if she brings money this time, what makes you so sure, she won’t sell the ranch and keep it all for herself?”  
“She might hate us, but she’s loyal,” Baird insisted. “We’re family, and we stick together.”  
“Yeah, but…”  
“I could’a just turned you in, myself, ya’ know!” Baird snapped back, getting tired of this argument. “I don’t know what the hell you was thinkin’; shootin’ Jacobs like that. Damn. You better hope he’s still alive, or we could all swing for it. But we’re family, and we stick together. So stop yer belly achin’!”   
Emmett shut up then. He had no comeback for that argument.  
“Good!” Baird ended the discussion. “I’ll wait fer her ‘till dark. If she don’t show by then, then we’ll wait tomorrow mornin’, too. She’ll show.”  
Baird collected up his rifle, and with stern glares at both his sons, he turned on them and walked into the woods.  
Seth and Emmett exchanged looks, but neither said anything.  
Xxx  
Baird carried on through the damp, and what was becoming, rather sparse woods. He walked on like he didn’t have a care in the world, and was completely unaware that there was a cagey ex-outlaw shadowing his every move. He seemed to think that because he knew this area so well, that nobody would dare to bother him here. Being aware that a posse could very well be on his trail didn’t seem to cause him any alarm, and he carried on, tromping through the woods, until he came to the second smaller clearing that had been his destination.  
Not bothering to check the area or the perimeter of the clearing, he strode confidently into the open, and settled himself down on the large boulder that had decided to plant itself practically dead center. He sighed and looked around, wondering how long he was going to have to wait for that little floozy to show up. He wasn’t quite as confident of her loyalty as he had made out to his sons, but she was the only chance they had of getting clear of this area, so he wasn’t going to simply walk away from it.  
Again, the fact that all the neighboring towns had been sent telegrams to be on the look-out for them, never occurred to him. Everyone around him were fools and cowards. He’d always gotten his way by being a bully, and he saw no reason to suspect that it would be any different now. All he had to do was wait.  
Shivering, he tightened his collar around his neck and looked up at the darkening grey sky. He could feel the chill seeping into his bones, and now his arthritis was starting to act up as well. What rotten timing. There’s nothing worse than being stuck out in the woods when the weather turned wet and cold. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to wait too long.  
Xxx  
Wheat crouched down just outside the small clearing. He was biting his lower lip, not only in concentration, but in consternation as well. He could take Baird easily from this position. Hell, the old fool wasn’t even holding his rifle. He’d set it down to lean against the boulder, within reach, but not fast enough to beat a rifle already pointed at him.  
But Lom’s words came back to him. Don’t be a hero. Find out what they’re doing and then get back here. But Wheat hesitated, and continued to sit there, arguing with himself. He had the bastard, right here. He could take him, easy. Since when was Lom his boss? Even in the gang, Lom had been lower in the pecking order, now all of a sudden, Wheat was supposed to take orders from him? Just ‘cause Heyes and the Kid kowtowed to him now, that didn’t mean Wheat had to.  
Having come to his decision, Wheat was in the process of aiming his rifle at his unsuspecting target, when both he and Baird heard the unmistakable sound of a branch snapping. Wheat cursed, thinking that maybe Ames had ignored his instructions, and come around on the other side of the clearing. It’d be just like him to give his position away like that.  
Baird sat up straighter, and taking his rifle, he aimed it towards the sound.  
“Who’s there?” he called out, as more snapping and rustling indicated the bumbling approach of a clumsy somebody.  
The shape of a large animal could then be seen coming through the woods, and Baird was getting ready to pull the trigger, when a familiar voice stopped him.  
“It’s me, Papa!” Courtney called, as her mare stepped into the clearing. “I brought you some money, just like we agreed.”  
Baird sighed with relief, and lowered the rifle.  
“Dang it, girl!” he cursed. “I almost shot ya’. Didn’t I teach ya’ nothin’ about sneakin’ up on somebody like that?”  
“No, Pa, you didn’t.”  
“Oh. Well, I should ’a,” he snarked. “All it takes is common sense, but then none ‘a my young’uns seemed to come with any ‘a that.”  
Courtney’s mouth tightened with irritation. She dismounted from the mare, hoping to get this transaction over and done with. The last thing she wanted to do was spent a night, not only in the woods, but in the company of her father and siblings. Get this meeting over with, and she knew that she could find her way back down to the ranch house, even if it was getting dark. From there it was an easy ride into town. Spending the night in that old drafty house, even by herself, held no appeal. Her cozy room at the hotel was calling to her.  
Forcing her chilly hands to work, she undid the buckles on the saddle bag and removed the brown paper package from its secure pouch and handed it to the man in front of her.  
“Here,” she said. “This is all I have. Every penny.”  
Baird snorted. He knew that was a lie. He snatched the parcel from her hands and opened it to count it out.  
“There’s $500 there,” she told him. “That ought ‘a be enough to get you a stake somewhere else.”  
“I got more comin’ than this, Court. And you know it,” Baird retorted, waving the money under her nose.  
“What do you mean?” she demanded to know. “That’s all I got, honest!”  
“You get that ranch sold, then we’ll talk about all you got,” Baird told her, then laughed out loud at the look of disappointment that flitted across her face. “Thought I wouldn’t think ‘a that, huh? That you’d just sell that place yourself, and disappear with the money?”  
“No, Pa,” Courtney denied the accusation. “Honest, I wasn’t thinkin’ that.”  
“Sure ya’ weren’t!” Baird yelled at her. “You’re a lyin’, thievin’ whore, just like yer ma. I ought ‘a…”  
He took a step towards her, hand raised and ready to strike. Courtney stepped back, her hand reaching inside her coat pocket for the small derringer hidden there, but she never had the chance to pull it.  
At that same instant, gun shots sounded from the direction of the original campsite. Courtney caught her breath and Baird cursed as they were startled out of their conflict. Baird swung around in the direction of the campsite and instinctively brought his rifle up to bare, all prepared for battle.   
Wheat cursed at his hand being forced. He’d wanted to take Baird out on his own terms, but now he had to act, and act quickly. Aiming for Baird’s rifle, he took his best shot. The bullet hit the stock, and split the wood right up to the mettle.   
“Dammit!” Baird cursed as splinters of wood punctured his hand and the rifle spun into the air. He grabbed the wrist of his injured hand, and he sucked his teeth as blood began to ooze down his arm and soak into the cuff of his coat.  
Courtney started to make a dash towards her horse, but her father caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He was hurting and angry now, and had no patience left for the nonsense of his children. He grabbed her, and quick as a snake, he pulled her around to use her as cover between himself and whoever it was who had fired that shot.  
“Papa!” Courtney screamed. “What are you doing?”  
“Shuddup!” her pa told her. Holding her tightly with his right arm, he began to rummage through her jacket pockets. “Where’s that lady’s pea-shooter you always carry. I know you got it in here somewhere’s. Ahh! Here it is.” He pulled it out with his left and aimed it towards Wheat’s hiding place. “Whoever you are, you ain’t takin’ me alive!” he shouted with as much bravado as he could muster. “And yer gonna have ta’ shoot a woman to even try!”  
Again, Wheat cursed. He could ‘a taken another shot at Baird right then and there, but he couldn’t bring himself to go shootin’ a woman. Even that woman. He kept his rifle aimed at Baird, hoping to get a clean shot, but Courtney was fighting and struggling so much, that Wheat could not be sure of missing her, if he were to fire.  
Then, before anybody could make another move, three more consecutive shots rang out in the woods surrounding the clearing. All three explosions came from different directions, but their close proximity to the clearing caused spines to tingle and fingers to go numb. Wheat ducked and looked around. He thought he caught movement over to his right, but even in the thinning woods surrounding the clearing, he couldn’t make out anything definite.   
Then Courtney screamed.  
Xxx  
The posse was making good time, even though they were keeping their horses to a fast walk through the trees. The ground was soft and cushiony underfoot, but Lom didn’t want to take the chance of making too much noise as they got closer to Deke’s Canyon. Everyone was on edge, half expecting to get bushwhacked by the desperate fugitives, as they made their way through the foliage.  
Lom pulled up and brought his rifle to bare, when he heard another horse coming towards them, but then he relaxed, when he recognized Ames trotting out from between the trees. The young ex-con approached them, relief showing in his eyes at having found them again. He really wasn’t that good of a tracker.  
“What did ya’ find?” Lom asked him.  
“We found ‘em settin’ up camp in a clearing, over that way. Or…was it that way…”  
“Never mind,” Lom told him. “We’ll follow your tracks back.”  
“Oh, good.”  
“Where’s Wheat? He didn’t get himself into trouble did he?”  
“I don’t think so,” Ames answered, suddenly looking concerned again.   
“Well, where is he?” Lom snapped when no explanation was forthcoming.  
Ames jumped, and so did his horse. “Oh! Well, ole’ man Baird set out on his own,” Ames explained. “And Wheat, well, he decided to follow ‘im, thinkin’ that maybe he was goin’ off ta’ meet up with somebody.”  
“Dammit!” Lom cursed. “I told you fellas to just watch ‘em.”  
“Oh.” Ames paled, scared that he had messed up again. “But…”  
“Never mind,” Lom assured him, seeing how the young man was shaking in his boots. “I suppose, I know Wheat well enough ta’ know, you wouldn’t have been able to stop him.”  
“Yeah,” Ames agreed. “He was kind ‘a insistent.”   
“Alright. How far ahead is this camp?”  
“Oh,” Ames perked up. “Can’t be more ‘n a mile or so, but that way. Or, is it that way? Dang! I can’t tell now.”  
Lom shook his head. “Sam.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Go over that way, and see if you can pick up the trail,” Lom instructed him. “I’ll take this side. The rest of ya’, carry on straight ahead. And you, Ames. Keep yer eyes open. When you think you’ve got your trail again, give us a wave to let us know.”  
Everyone nodded consent, and moved out to their allotted sections in order to pick up the trail. Losing contact with one another ended up not being a factor, as the trees were so spare now, that they all had a fairly clear view of their cohorts, as they sought out the trail. Add to that, the fact that most of the men in the posse knew where Deke’s Canyon was anyway, made following Ames’ trail back a moot point at best.   
Ten minutes further along, their endeavor became even easier simply due to the stupidity of the men they were following. Wood smoke from the camp fire was now very noticeable as it rose up in the cool air. The posse had no trouble following it to their destination.  
The group stopped when they were still a ways out, not wanting to give any warning that they were there. Lom and Sam joined the main group again, both of them shaking their heads at the idiotic easiness of finding their quarry.   
“Okay fellas,” Lom whispered his instructions. “We’ll leave the horses here. Ames, you and Kurt will stay here with them. The last thing we need is for them to spook and head home without us.”  
Kurt was about to protest being left out of the final capture, but Lom, foreseeing the inevitable, silenced him before he could get a word out.  
“There could be shootin’ here,” Lom said. “With your thumb the way it is; I don’t want to risk ya’. We’ll all have ta’ have our wits about us. These guys may be stupid, but they’re gonna be pretty desperate too. No tellin’ what they might get up to.”  
“But I can shoot just as good as anybody else here,” Kurt complained, a little louder than he should have. “No reason…”  
Lom snarled and waved him into silence. “The reason is, because I say so,” the sheriff reprimanded him in a low growl. “What if them fellas get around us, and come for the horses? I need men here who can shoot, too. Keepin’ these horses secure is important. I wouldn’t be trustin’ it to just anybody. So stop complainin’ and do the job I give ya’.”  
Ames smiled and puffed up at the compliment, but Kurt wasn’t so easily conned. He snarked a little bit, but kept his complaining to himself.  
“C’mon, Ames,” he grumbled. “Looks like we got us the easy job.”  
Lom sent the young man a look, then gathered the rest of the posse around him.  
“Alright,” he said, quietly. “I want ya’ all ta’ fan out. Stay low and stay quiet. Keep your rifles at the ready. Get to where ya’ got a view of the camp and then wait. I’ll give ya’ all about fifteen minutes ta’ get into position, and then I’ll announce our presence.”  
“You’re gonna let them know we’re here?” Clancy asked. “Damn. In the war, we’d a just shot ‘em from ambush. Safest way.”  
“We ain’t in the war now, Clancy,” Lom pointed out. “This is a legal posse, and no matter what they done, they have the right to surrender. Just make sure ya’ got ‘em in yer sights. Floyd and Bernie, you make sure ya’ got Emmett. Sam and Clancy, you take Seth. Now remember, we don’t know who shot Jacobs. It could ‘a been ole’ man Baird himself. And to me, that does seem the most likely. So both these fellas might just be here because they’re under their pa’s rule. Don’t go shootin’ nobody, if’n you don’t have to. Ya’ understand?”  
“Yeah, okay,” Clancy grumbled. “But any wrong move, and I’ll plug both of ‘em. Just ‘cause I run the Merc now, doesn’t mean I don’t know how to use one of these things.”  
“That’s fine, Clancy,” Lom agreed. “Just don’t go imaginin’ a wrong move, when there ain’t none. Okay. Who else here has a time piece on ‘em?”  
“I got one,” Clancy announced.  
“Me too,” came Floyd’s response.  
“Good,” Lom nodded. “Okay, move out. Remember, stay quiet, but be ready fifteen minutes from now.”  
“Right.”  
The posse split up, half going to the left, and the others going to the right, and soon they had all disappeared into the lengthening shadows of the woods.  
Ames and Kurt tied all the horses nice and securely to the surrounding trees, and then Kurt sat down on a convenient boulder, and let out a heavy sigh. Ames just smiled and took to whittling an unfortunate stick.   
Xxx  
Joe kept his rifle out and at the ready, as he followed the hoof prints further and further into the woods. He knew these back trails better than anybody, so it didn’t surprise him when the tracks he was following soon slowed, and then began to angle around in the direction of the Canyon. The rider was pushing the horse to move faster than was safe on these trails, but he appeared to be in a hurry, and didn’t care about the safety of his animal.  
Joe kept Betty moving quickly as well, but she had been over these trails often enough and was just as familiar with them as Joe was. She trotted along confidently, and they were quickly closing the gap between themselves and the stranger ahead of them.  
Xxx  
Jed stopped Gov so he could listen for sounds in the woods surrounding them. He could see the clear tracks ahead and knew that he was still on the right trail. What he wasn’t sure about, was how close he was to catching up with Courtney. The woods here were sparse, but the clouded sun was sinking, causing the shadows to deepen and visibility to become more difficult. The last thing he needed, was to be following so closely that he gave his presence away. He wanted to follow her to her destination, not get her running scared to the point that she would go to ground.  
He sat still as a statue, and let Gov know that he was not free to graze. Stand still and quiet, and listen. He could hear birds chirping overhead, and the soft breeze rustling the leaves of the trees, but nothing that sounded anything like a large animal moving through the foliage, came to his ears. He touched Gov’s sides, and the gelding picked up a fast walk again, and they carried on.  
Jed stopped every ten minutes or so to listen again. He knew he was close to her, he could sense that he was, but he still wasn’t able to see her. Then finally, his persistence paid off. A soft snap of a branch and an iron shoe striking a rock told him that the horse he was following was just ahead of him, but still hidden in the shadows of the trees. He moved forward slowly, scanning through the branches, seeking any colors or movement that wasn’t natural to the forest.  
Then he saw it; a horse’s rump moving forward. He looked closer, and now that he had a solid reference point, he was slowly able to make out the form of the woman riding. She was moving slowly and making her way towards a small clearing. Visibility was better out there in the small meadow, not having the trees blocking out the dim sunlight, and Jed surmised that this was where she was planning on meeting up with her family.  
Dismounting, he tied Gov to small tree, where he had access to lots of grass, and taking the rifle with him, he slowly made his way through the trees in the wake of Courtney’s path. He heard voices before he saw them, but one more little shift of direction, and Jed found himself with a clear view of the meadow and the two people in it.  
Of the three Baird men, Jed could only see the patriarch in the clearing, talking to Courtney. This fact made him a little anxious, wondering if the two brothers were hiding out around the perimeter, keeping an eye out in case Courtney had indeed been followed. He did a quick scan of the whole meadow, and of the trees surrounding it, looking for any signs of the brothers being present.   
Jed didn’t want to leave his own hiding place to go in search of them, so he hunkered down behind a large boulder and decided to wait it out. If the boys were out there, they’d let their presence be known soon enough, and Jed would deal with them, if they did. If they weren’t here, then Ole’ man Baird would have to head back to them sooner or later, and Jed was determined not to let the man out of his sight.  
He frowned, as the voices he heard were becoming angry, and then Baird made a motion to strike his daughter where she stood. Jed felt his emotion rise as he yet again, witnessed that man raise a hand to one of his daughters. He felt his jaw tightened and was tempted to break his own cover to stop the assault, but circumstances stopped in to save him the trouble.  
A series of rifle shots, followed by six-shooters, followed by more rifle shots shattered the forest silence. A number of startled birds squawked indignantly, and the rush of their wings as they took flight, momentarily took over from the scene below them.   
Jed actually felt himself cringe down, as he couldn’t tell from whence the shots were coming from. Then another rifle shot, this one much closer, cracked through the air, and Baird’s rifle was flipped from his hands. Jed reacted instantly, bringing his rifle up and aiming it directly at Baird himself. But before Jed could fire, Baird grabbed Courtney and pulled her up against him, using her as a shield between himself and the unknown rifleman.  
“Dammit,” Jed cursed to himself. He had Baird’s back clean in his sights, but he dared not take the shot.   
From this range, even a bullet from his colt would go right through Baird and into Courtney, and just like Wheat, Jed could not bring himself to shoot a woman, even if it was to bring down a killer. He stayed ready, focused on the people in the clearing, waiting and praying that Courtney would move just enough so that Jed could get a clean shot in. But even though she was moving, and screaming, and carrying on no end, she wasn’t being at all helpful in getting out of the way.  
Then Jed felt an instance of dread, as a sixth sense reminded him that he hadn’t been watching his own back. He just barely pushed himself to the side when another rifle cracked and the bullet clipped the rock right where Jed’s back used to be. Jed jerked back even more, as miniscule splinters of hot rock jumped off the boulder and stung his skin. In that very same instant, as he felt himself sliding off the boulder, he brought his rifle around and fired at the assailant behind him.  
Jed had just enough time to see a man whom he didn’t know, fall from behind a tree, clutching his arm and cursing through the pain of a bullet strike, when another rifle shot rent the air. This was when Courtney’s screaming really took off.  
Jed didn’t have time to deal with her. He hoped that whoever else was in the woods this day, would deal with the Bairds. Jed had his own worries. Scrambling to his feet, he ran towards his victim before the man could gather his wits and take another shot at him. Five running strides had Jed at his destination, and with one foot on the fallen rifle, he aimed his own rifle at the man lying in the damp dirt.  
Luke Shuster had no intentions of fighting off the notorious gunman, because even though Jed didn’t recognize him, Shuster damned sure recognized Kid Curry. Taking out Curry from behind, in an ambush, was one thing, but staring him down in a face to face battle was more than he was willing to risk. He leaned against the tree and tried to indicate surrender, even though he still clutched at his bleeding forearm.  
“Don’t shoot!” he pleaded. “Don’t shoot me. I’m unarmed now, and I’m wounded. Ya’ wouldn’t shoot a wounded man, would ya’?”  
“Well now, that all depends,” Jed drawled as he picked up the second rifle, and unloaded it. “Who are ya’ mister, and what do ya’ think you’re doin’ takin’ pot shots at me?”  
Luke opened his mouth to answer, but their discussion was interrupted by more wild feminine screaming, and what sounded like a wild boar charging through the underbrush. Jed spun around, his own rifle again at the ready, to see Courtney charging towards him. Blood was on her jacket and face, and there was a look of absolute terror in her eyes. She was so petrified, she didn’t even see Jed and she would have run right into him, if not for Joe, who came out of nowhere, and grabbed her.  
She screamed bloody murder at being detained, and as Joe got a firmer hold on her, she turned on him, biting and scratching like the she-devil from hell, herself. Jed dropped the rifles out of reach of his captive, and moved in to assist. He grabbed Courtney from behind, pinning her arms to her side and trying to stop her from fighting.  
“Calm down,” Jed told her. “Calm down, it’s over. You’re safe.”  
“Don’t shoot me!” she screamed at Joe. “I didn’t do anything! Don’t hurt me!”  
“I’m not gonna hurt ya’!” Joe insisted. “Calm down.”  
“You shot my pa! Don’t shot me!”  
“Yeah, I shot your pa’,” Joe admitted. “But I ain’t gonna shoot you.”  
“You shot my pa!” she repeated. “You shot my pa!”  
“Courtney, calm down,” Jed told her. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you. Just settle down, so’s we can figure out what went on here.”  
When Courtney heard her name being spoken, Jed felt her instantly begin to settle. There was something basic about hearing her name spoken in a soothing tone, that settled her nerves and brought her terrified mind back in to focus. Breathing heavily, but no longer struggling against the two men, she sank to her knees and began to cry.  
Jed and Joe exchanged relieved looks, and both let out sighs to relax their own nerves. Then Jed saw the light in Joe’s eyes change, and the deputy raised up the barrel of his rifle and aimed it to a point beyond Jed’s back.  
“What do you think you’re doing?” Joe asked.  
Jed turned around to see Luke Shuster just in the act of reaching for one of the fallen rifles. He froze in mid-reach and stared up at his two captors.  
“Nothin’,” he claimed, as he pulled his hand back from the rifle and returned to his original position.  
“Good. Make sure ya’ keep it that way,” Jed said, as he walked towards him. “C’mon, on your feet. Who are you anyway? What’s any ‘a this got ta’ do with you?”  
“I was just protecting the lady is all,” Shuster answered. “I knew she was heading up this way, and I got concerned that she might get lost or something. Not safe for a lady to be out in these woods after dark.”  
“What the hell were ya’ takin’ a shot at me for?” Jed demanded.  
“Well it looked like you were gonna shoot her!”  
“I was tryin’ ta’ avoid shootin’ her!” Jed insisted. “You could’a killed me!”  
“He’s the one I tracked from the ranch,” Joe cut in. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was tryin’ to kill you.”  
Jed’s blue eyes turned to ice as he glared back at the wounded man. “You’re the one who was with her, at the ranch house?”  
“Well, yeah,” Shuster confirmed. “She and I, we had some business…”  
“You’re the one who tried to kidnap Sally,” Jed accused him.  
Shuster went silent and turned pale all in a matter of a heartbeat. He gulped nervously.  
“Yeah, but… we didn’t,” he bargained. “Besides, it was her idea.”  
Courtney had recovered enough from her ordeal to realize that she was being betrayed.  
“You cowardly bastard!” she snarled at him. “And you claim to be a friend to my pa? This is how you thank him, over all those times he took you in, gave ya’ a job, and put food in your belly? You worthless…why couldn’t you have just done the job I paid you to do!”  
“Mainly because you didn’t pay me for it!” Luke snarked back. “Geesh, this is what I get for being concerned about you. I should have just headed on out of here and left ya’ to your own miserable family. You’re all a bunch of lying, cheating…”  
Courtney was on her feet, ready to scratch Luke’s eyes out, but Joe caught her just in time and brought her to a halt.  
“Settle down,” he ordered her. “Enough of this.”  
“Hey!!” came a very familiar voice from the clearing. “You fellas gonna stop yer jawin’ and get over here? We got ourselves a dead man ta’ deal with!”  
“Wheat!” Jed called back. “Is that you?”  
“Yeah, a course it’s me!” he yelled back, and Jed could hear the rolling of his eyes.  
“Is the rest of the posse with ya’?”  
“I expect that’s what all that other shootin’ was about,” Wheat reasoned. “Seems ta’ me, we might think about joinin’ back up with them fellas, before it gets too dang dark ta’ see us trippin’ over each other.”  
“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “We’re comin’.” He turned to Luke and grabbed his good arm. “C’mon, stand up. You can walk.”  
“Yeah, for now,” Luke whined. “but my arms bleedin’ like a stuck pig. Ain’t ya’ gonna do anything about it?”  
Jed snatched Luke’s own bandana and tied it snuggly around the wound. Luke flinched and tried to pull his arm away.  
“There,” Jed said, and deliberately gave him a pat on the same arm. “That’ll do ya’ until we get settled in for the night.”  
“I’ll go collect up the horses,” Joe offered as he helped Courtney to her feet. “Where did ya’ tether yours?”   
Jed jutted his jaw in a northerly direction. “He’s just over there, havin’ lunch.”  
“Mine’s right beside him,” Luke offered without waiting to be asked.  
Jed frowned as he collected up the rifles. Apparently Luke had known about his presence for some time before taking that pot shot at him. Jed felt like he was losing his touch, and he didn’t like that feeling one little bit. Grabbing Luke by his bad arm, Jed pushed him into a walk ahead of him and ignored the yelp of pain that his rough handling caused. With Courtney leading the way, the small group made their way towards the clearing and a rather impatient Wheat.  
Courtney slowed down as they approached the lifeless form of her father, lying face down in the grass. There was a gaping wound in the middle of his back, and blood soaked his shirt and seeped into the ground around his form. Courtney looked at him with disgust distorting her features, and as she walked to him, she leaned over and spat on him.  
“That bastard,” she said as she wiped her mouth. “Using me as a shield. He never was any damn good.”  
Xxx  
Emmett and Seth finished getting the camp set up for the night. The horses and mule were rubbed down and tied out where they could reach grass, and the two young men settled in around the warming fire and got coffee going to help ward off the coming night chill. Dinner of biscuits, bacon and beans was hastily thrown together and put over the fire to sizzle and simmer until their pa returned, with or without Courtney.  
The posse members had quickly, but quietly, gotten themselves into position around the small meadow and waited to get the signal from Lom that it was time to make their move. The inviting crackling of the fire, and the smell of fresh coffee was soon joined by the aroma of frying bacon, and soon, everybody’s mouths were watering. Men shifted uncomfortably, as stomachs growled and reminded them all of how long they’d been on the trail.  
Finally, after what seemed like an interminably long fifteen minutes, Lom’s voice announced the posse’s presence.  
“Emmett and Seth Baird!” he yelled out to them. “This is Sheriff Trevors, with a posse from Brookswood. You are surrounded! Lay down your weapons and surrender to the law!”  
Coffee cups dropped and the pot of beans was knocked over as Emmett slid off the log he and his brother were sitting on, and he disappeared from view. Clancy took his shot as Emmett moved, but missed him, and sent the bullet into the log instead. Seth yelped in surprise, then jumped to his feet, his hands in the air in a show of surrender.  
“Don’t shoot me!” he screamed. “I surrender!”  
But his words were drowned out, as the mule began a loud, obnoxious braying, and all four equines began to fight against their tethering. Repeated bangs coming from Emmett’s six-shooter added to the fracas, as he started to fire back at the posse from behind the log. More rifle shots answered the challenge and Seth hollered in fright. With hands coming down to cover his head, he scrambled for cover behind the same log, just as Emmett made a dash away from it.  
The horses and mule had gotten loose and were making a mad gallop for the trees that took them right past the hiding place of the fugitives. Emmett took advantage, and as the horses came through, he grabbed the mane of the closest one, and leapt aboard. He lay down flat along the horse’s back and let the animal take him where it would, and just hoped that it would be to safety.  
Rifles opened up again, trying to take down the runner, but there was too much commotion, too many large shapes on the go, and in the chaos, every shot missed its mark. Then both Bernie and Floyd had to scramble out from their cover as the run-away horses crashed through the underbrush and nearly ploughed into the two men.  
Clancy kept on taking shots at the fleeing man, until Lom put a stop to it.  
“Stop shooting!” Lom yelled. “Yer gonna hit one of us! Floyd, Bernie, get after ‘im!”  
The two men in question, gathered themselves up off the ground and started running after the small group that could still be heard breaking through low branches, as they ran for safety.  
Xxx  
Ames and Kurt perked up when they heard Lom yell out the warning to the Bairds, and then both were instantly on their feet when the unmistakable sounds of a shooting battle commenced.  
“Damn!” Kurt complained. “I knew I should ‘a gone with ‘em! What good are we doin’, sittin’ here guardin’ a bunch ‘a horses? We should be over there, helpin’ out!”  
“No! Wait!” Ames called after him, but it was too late. Kurt had grabbed up his rifle and was on the run, towards the battlefield.  
Ames sent an anxious look back towards the posse horses, who were already up on their toes and blowing. With eyes rolling white, they looked like they were ready to explode, and Ames briefly wondered why they were acting so nervous, as gun shots weren’t new to any of them. But then he heard it too; the sound of large animals charging through the woods towards them.  
Turning to face the onslaught, the first thing Ames saw, was Kurt, kneeling down and trying to get his rifle to cock, but his bandaged thumb was getting in the way, and Emmett was barreling down on him with all intents and purposes of running him into the ground. At the last instant, Kurt ducked to the side, but Emmett’s horse still clipped him hard, and sent him flying into a tree trunk.  
Ames felt his heart in his throat. The other two horses and mule were coming out of the woods as well, but Ames knew they were going to gallop right on past him. He could hear their own posse horses fighting against their tethers, squealing and snorting as they pulled back and banged into each other with their efforts.   
But it wasn’t those sights and sounds that had Ames frozen to the spot. The third horse was coming straight for him, and the rider, now in control of the animal, was pushing it forward, to run faster and hit harder. Ames could see the look of desperation in Emmett’s eyes as that man brought up his six-gun and aimed it directly at Ames’ face.  
It all happened in slow motion. Ames could see every detail of the wild-eyed horse baring down on him. He could see the nostrils flaring and the mane dancing on the air, as the animal’s muscles stretched and contracted with each ground covering stride. He could see the gun pointed at him, even make out the hand that held it. He saw the thumb pull back the hammer and the finger tighten as it squeezed the trigger. He saw his own death barreling down upon him, and there was nothing he could do to avoid it.  
But then, nothing happened. The gun didn’t fire. Ames saw disbelief flash through Emmett’s eyes, and in that second before the horse crushed into him, Ames stepped to the side. He felt the muscled shoulder of the animal glance against him, and even that was enough to send the ex-con sprawling into the dirt.   
Then the horse was past him, and Ames rolled clear. Coming up onto his knees, he turned and brought his rifle up, just as Emmett hauled on the tether line and pulled his horse’s head around. He was so angry at having missed his target, that he was coming around for a second charge. The horse powered into the dirt, sending up clumps of fallen leaves and detritus as he came on again.  
Ames yelled, pulled the trigger of his rifle, and then dropped, to lie flat on the ground. He felt, rather than heard the horse jump over him as more dirt and leaves pattered down onto his back, and then this was instantly followed by a larger, heavier object hitting the ground and banging into him before it settled in a heap.  
Ames looked up and instantly jumped away. Emmett was lying there on his back, an angry grimace upon his countenance as his blank eyes stared up through the trees. There was a large, gaping hole under Emmett’s chin, where the rifle bullet had entered, and even though, thank goodness, Ames couldn’t see it, the back of his head was completely blown off where the bullet had exited.  
Ames pushed himself further away from the gruesome sight, and felt like he was going to be sick. Distraction came at just the right moment, as Clancy and Bernie came huffing and puffing upon the scene, and saw in an instant, what had happened.  
Ames was still sitting and gasping for air when he felt a hand upon his shoulder.  
“You alright, son?” Clancy asked him.  
Ames just looked up at him with wide rimmed eyes and then looked back at the corpse splayed out on the ground.   
Clancy gave him a pat. “That’s okay, son,” he said. “You done good. You just, go and be sick, if ya’ wanna.”  
Ames nodded and thought that wasn’t such a bad idea.  
“Kurt took a bad hit here, Clance,” Bernie called over from where he was examining his friend. “He’s out cold.”  
Clancy straightened up and walked over to their fallen comrade. “Let me have a look,” he said as he knelt down beside the lad. “Yeah, that’s a good ‘un, alright. He’s gonna have quite a headache when he wakes up.”  
“His head ain’t broke, is it?” Bernie asked, anxiously. “He is gonna wake up, ain’t he?”  
“Yeah, he’ll wake up,” Clancy assured him. “C’mon. Let’s get this mess back to the camp site. It sounds to me like Lom’s got everything under control back there.”  
Xxx  
Lom, Sam and Clancy quickly made their way into the clearing, rifles aimed at the log where Seth had ducked for cover.  
“Let me see your hands!” Lom called out.  
A pair of pale, shaking hands slowly rose above the log and waved at them.  
“I surrender,” came the hidden voice. “I didn’t do nothin’.”  
The three armed men approached the log, and with three rifles leading the way, they leaned over it and looked down at the quivering boy who was lying on his back, staring up at them.  
“I surrender,” he repeated in a shaky voice. “Please don’t shoot me.”  
“Get on your feet,” Lom ordered him.  
“Yeah, yeah,” Seth agreed. He tried to push himself up, but his limbs wouldn’t listen to him. His arms and legs were shaking so badly; it was all he could do to sit up.  
Lom grabbed him under the arm and pulled him up enough so that he was, once again, sitting on the log. The lad sat there like a miserable lout, and looked around at the disaster that used to be their camp site. Fear rolled in his eyes, and he was shaking so badly that Lom began to take pity on him.  
“Nobody’s gonna hurt ya’, unless you do somethin’ stupid,” he said. “Ya’ understand?”  
Seth swallowed, but nodded adamantly.  
“Dammit,” Lom cursed under his breath as he went over to the fire and poured out a cup of coffee. He set it into the shaking hands that could barely hold it steady. “Here, drink that. Maybe it’ll calm ya’ down a little bit.”  
All heads jerked towards the sound of a single rifle shot coming from the direction of the posse remuda. Lom’s jaw clenched in concern, hoping that it wasn’t one of his men going down. The realization that Emmett hadn’t had a rifle with him when he made his run, gave him some hope, but he wanted to be sure.  
“Sam…”  
“Yeah, I’m on it,” Sam told him, and he quickly made his way to the edge of the clearing, and disappeared into the woods.   
Unclipping the hand cuffs from the back of his belt, Lom knelt down beside Seth and snapped them onto his still shaking hands.  
“Seth Baird, you’re under arrest for the assault, or conspiracy in the assault of a lawman,” Lom told him. “Do you understand that?”  
“But I didn’t do it!” Seth protested. “Emmett did it, and Pa made me come with them.”  
“Then ya’ got nothin’ ta’ worry about,” Lom commented. “But until we know what happened, none of ya’ are goin’ anywhere, except to a jail cell.”  
Seth’s shoulders slumped, but he sat quietly, sipped his coffee, and accepted his fate, like he always did.  
“It’s gonna be dark here real soon,” Lom observed. “Let’s get this fire stoked up again, and see what we got for supper. It looks like we’ll be spendin’ the night, right here.”  
“Yep,” Floyd agreed. “Looks that way.”  
Within ten minutes, the spilt beans and burned bacon had been cleared away and fresh chow set up to cook. The rifles and Seth’s handgun were unloaded and set aside, and the camp site made ready for a one-night occupancy.  
Lom and Floyd had just poured themselves a cup of coffee and settled in to await the return of their own party, when they heard the call from edge of the darkened woods.  
“Comin’ into the camp!”   
Lom recognized Clancy’s voice and nodded. “Come on in!”  
Shapes began to emerge from the darkness, and the three men around the camp fire stood up in alarm as the group became clear.  
“Crap!” Lom cursed as he came forward to investigate the two forms draped over saddles. “Who’s down?”  
“This one’s Emmett,” Clancy informed him. “He’s deader than a rat in a river.” An audible groan came from the direction of the prisoner. “That one there is Kurt, but he’s just got a bump on the head. I expect he’ll wake up soon enough, and be as cranky as a bear in winter.”  
“Okay,” Lom acknowledged. “Put Emmett over there. Wrap him up in his own bedroll, so we don’t have to look at him. Sam and Ames, you fellas get Kurt settled in here by the fire. We can all keep an eye on him.”  
Ames ignored the orders and stumbled past Lom to sit down by the fire, himself. Lom watched him go by and wondered why the lad was thinking it was time for a rest.  
“Let ‘im be,” Clancy spoke quietly to the sheriff. “He’s the one that shot Emmett. I don’t think he was prepared for it.”  
“Oh,” Lom nodded.   
“I can do it, myself,” Sam offered, as he sent a sympathetic glance over to Ames. “I’ll make sure he’s comfortable.”  
“Okay,” Lom agreed. “Ahh, Floyd, how about you and Bernie keep watch around the parameter for now.”  
“What do ya’ mean?” Bernie asked, feeling his own tummy growling. “There ain’t nothin’ ta’ see.”  
Lom felt his hackles rise. This was one reason he didn’t like taking such young fellas out in a posse like this. They all seemed to think that they knew what was best.  
“Because I’m sayin’ so, that’s why!” the sheriff snapped at him. “Carlson and Baird are still out there somewhere. Now I think I might ‘a heard some gunfire earlier, but there was so much commotion goin’ on here, that I ain’t certain. Now, maybe Wheat will come back, or maybe Baird will. Or maybe both. Which one would you rather have come sneakin’ up on us, while we’re all sittin’ down havin’ supper, like we’re on a church picnic?”  
“Oh,” Bernie conceded. “Sorry. It’s just, I’m hungry is all.”  
“We’re all hungry,” Lom said, his tone softening. “Don’t worry. We’ll take turns. You’ll get fed.”  
“C’mon, sonny,” Floyd said, patting him on the back. “You go left, and I’ll go right. But whatever ya’ do, don’t go into them woods. Stay in the firelight, where we can all see ya’.”  
The first shift of night watchmen set up their guard duty, while Clancy first helped to get Kurt laid out by the fire, and then worked on getting Emmett settled in.   
Seth sat on the log, looking alone and dejected. He couldn’t really see what Clancy was doing, but he knew that it was his brother over there, being trussed up like a goose at Christmas. He wasn’t sure if he was more hurt than he was scared. Emmett was his older brother, and he’d always looked up to him, even more than he did his pa. But Emmett could be mean, too. Everybody always seemed to pick on Seth, even his sisters wouldn’t give him a break.  
So, was he really upset, that Emmett was dead? No, not really. But now, he was the one who would be getting the brunt of his father’s nasty temper. Hell, Pa would probably blame him for Emmett getting himself shot. He sighed dejectedly. This day hadn’t turned out at all like their pa had said it would.  
On the parameter of the camp site, Bernie was again, starting to resent being on guard duty, and could only think of his empty stomach, when he knew for sure that he heard a branch rustle, and then a twig snap.  
He spun around, his rifle pointing into the darkness, and his eyes straining to see.  
“Who’s there!” he called. “Say who it is, or I’ll shoot!”  
“Take it easy!” Carlson’s voice came in from the dark. “All I need is ta’ get shot by some bloody greenhorn.”  
Lom came to stand beside Bernie to make sure he didn’t do something stupid.  
“That you, Carlson?”  
“Yeah! Who else you expectin’—Hannibal Heyes hisself?”  
“Sounds like there’s more than just you there,” Lom commented cautiously. “Everything alright?”  
“Sure, everything’s alright,” Wheat told him, as he came into view, leading his horse. “Picked up a few stragglers, is all.”  
Lom and Bernie stepped back, as the whole party came filing into the clearing.  
“What in tarnation!” Lom exclaimed. “Who ya’ all got here?”  
“Surprise, surprise,” Wheat announced with a smirk. “I run inta’ the Kid and Deputy Morin out there in them woods. I also got Miss Baird; the one who ain’t married, and this one here, cryin’ that he’s hurtin’, goes by the name of Luke Shuster. Oh, and I also got Ole’ Man Baird. But he’s deader than a fence post, so maybe he don’t count.”  
Lom felt himself getting irritated again, right after Wheat announced his first two companions. Even in the darkness, the anger in his eyes was more than apparent.  
“What the hell are you two doin’ up here?” he asked the Kid. “I told you fellas ta’ stay in town.”  
“It’s a long story, Lom” Kid told him. “I smell bacon and beans. How’s about we tell ya’ about it over supper?”  
“Fine!” Lom snarked, giving it up as a lost cause. “Get your horses tended to, and then come eat. Miss Baird, fancy meetin’ you up here.”  
“That’s another part of that long story, Lom,” Jed commented over his shoulder as he led two horses across the clearing. “Can somebody bandage up Shuster here, before he bleeds all over the biscuits?”  
“I’ll do it,” Courtney grudgingly offered. “Just get me some supplies.”   
Xxx  
“Hey, Jed,” Sam greeted his friend as he approached the remuda. “I’ll take care of the horses for ya’, so you can go and get some supper.”  
“Ain’t you hungry too, Sam?” Jed asked him.  
Sam sighed. “Not really,” he admitted. “Emmett’s dead, and I got a real good like at his head, after they threw him on the back of that horse. It kind ‘a took away my appetite, if you know what I mean.”   
Jed glanced over to where the body was laid out, now nicely wrapped up in its own bedroll. “Yeah,” he consoled. “I guess I do. That ain’t somethin’ ya’ ever really get used to. Who shot ‘im?”  
“Apparently, Ames did.”  
Jed looked over to the campfire and saw Ames sitting there, looking a little green around the gills. “Really?” he said, with a touch of incredulity. “I never would ‘a thought it.”  
“Yeah well. I don’t think he thought it, either.”  
Wheat joined them, bringing the rest of the horses. “What’s up with Ames?” he asked. “He looks like his best friend just died.”  
“He’s the one who shot Emmett,” Sam repeated. “I don’t think he’s feelin’ too good about it.”  
“Huh! Damn,” Wheat commented, and looked back over at the young man. “Well, shoot. You think I should go over there and give ‘im a pep talk?”  
“Aside from Kyle, you are the closest thing he’s got to a friend,” Jed reasoned. “Seems fittin’ you should be the one ta’ talk to ‘im.”  
“Damn,” Wheat cursed again. “Where’s Kyle when I really need ‘im?”  
“I’ll look after the horses,” Sam offered again. “You fellas go and get settled.”  
“Yeah, fine,” Wheat groused. “I’d rather look after the damn horses than go play nurse-maid to a wet-behind-the-ears, fire-bug. Damn.” And he started to walk away, towards the fire.  
“Wheat,” Jed called after him. “Try to be at least a little nice to him.”  
“What do ya’ mean?” the craggy ex-outlaw asked. “I can do nice!”  
“Sure ya’ can,” Jed agreed, but with a slight smirk. “Just don’t be yellin’ at ‘im.”  
“Damn!” Wheat cursed again, and carried on his way.  
Xxx  
Courtney and Luke headed towards the increasingly crowded fireside, when she suddenly saw her youngest brother. “Seth!” She called, and ran over to him. “Are you alright?”  
“Yeah, I suppose,” Seth answered. “So, they got Pa too, did they?”  
“What do you mean, too?” Courtney asked, and then looked around her. “Where’s Emmett?”  
Seth jerked his chin in the direction of the occupied bedroll and then turned his gaze to Ames, who was sitting across from him. “He shot ‘im. Shot ‘im deader than a fly in buttermilk.”  
Ames glanced at Seth, then looked away again. He felt like he was going to be sick. He would have gotten up and left the fireside, but he was so darn cold, he needed to stay by the warmth. Besides, his legs were so shaky, he doubted he could have stood up right then, anyways.  
“Huh,” Courtney grunted, not even giving Ames a glance. “Oh well. Can’t say as I’m gonna miss either one of ‘em. Where’s that bandaging material?”  
“Right here,” said Joe, as he dumped the meagre medical supplies at her feet. “Make it good. We don’t want ‘im bleedin’ to death before he can stand trial.”  
“Stand trial for what?” Luke demanded, as he sat down on the log by Courtney and Seth, to get his arm tended to.  
“Aidin’ and abedin’ for one thing,” said Jed as he joined the group. “And taking a pot shot at me, for another.”  
“I told ya’! I thought you were going to shoot Miss Baird!”  
“And she’s up to her neck in this as well,” Jed countered.   
“Now just wait a minute!” Courtney insisted as she stood up and stamped her foot. “I didn’t do anything!”  
“No?” asked Jed. “What about attempted kidnapping?”  
“We weren’t going to hurt her!” Courtney insisted.  
“Attempted kidnapping?” Lom questioned. “What in tarnation is going on here?”  
Everyone started talking at once. Lom held up his hands and waved them into silence.  
“QUIET!” he yelled.  
Two of the horses in the remuda snorted. Nobody else made a sound.  
“Until I get informed of what’s goin’ on here, all three of ya’ are under arrest,” Lom continued. “And it sounds ta’ me like there’s a list of crimes here that we can choose from, not the least of which is the attempted murder of a lawman!”  
“Ah, no, it ain’t,” Jed spoke softly.  
Lom turned to him. “What do ya’ mean, it ain’t.”  
The sadness in Jed’s eyes spoke the truth, even before he opened his mouth. “It’s murder of a lawman,” he forced himself to say. “Jacobs died a couple ‘a hours after you fellas left town.”  
Even spoken as softly as they had been, everyone in camp heard the words. Silence fell heavy, as those who were just hearing it for the first time, tried to soak it in.  
“Damn,” Lom softly commented. “I didn’t know the man well, but he seemed like a decent sort.”  
“Yeah, he was,” Jed agreed.   
All eyes moved to Seth, and there was instant hostility in the air. Seth gasped, and fear erupted from him like a spewing volcano.  
“No,” he said with a definite quiver in his voice. “No. It wasn’t me. It was Emmett. He shot Jacobs. It weren’t me!”  
“Yeah, and all we got is your word fer that,” Clancy growled. “I’ve known Carl Jacobs fer years, and he was a better man than you whole lot of Bairds put together. And you done killed ‘im!”  
“No!” Seth sounded like he was going to start to cry. “No. I got my rights.”  
“Your rights be damned!” Clancy cursed as he moved in on the lad. “We ought ‘a string you up right here and now. That’s how we’d a done it in the war!”  
“No!” Courtney screamed, and actually put herself between her brother and the irate mercantile man.  
Lom was just as quick to intervene, and Joe moved in to support his fellow law man.  
“Hold on, Clancy,” Joe told him. “This here is a legal posse. We’re not a lynch mob. Now, I got more reason than any of ya’ to want justice done. But we’ll do it legally. He’ll stand trial for what he did. But you’re not taking the law into your own hands. He could very well be tellin’ the truth.”  
“How are we gonna know?” Floyd asked. “All the witnesses are dead.”  
“I don’t know how…” Joe started, but was cut off.  
“I do,” Jed spoke up. “We got all their guns, right?”  
“Yeah,” Lom agreed. “We collected them all up.”  
“And we know that Jacobs was shot with a .45, right?”  
“But they all carry .45’s!” Clancy pointed out. “How are we gonna be able to tell whose gun fired the bullet?”  
“I don’t know,” Jed admitted. “But the more time I spend around men like David and Steven, the more I accept that there’s a lot I don’t know. Even Heyes don’t know all that evidence stuff. But I’m willin’ ta’ bet, that if we hand over all them guns, along with the bullets, those men who are smarter than me, will be able to figure out which gun belonged to which fella, and which gun fired that bullet. The only question is, if David kept the bullet that killed Sheriff Jacobs.”  
“Fine,” Clancy snarked. “I guess I know when I’m outnumbered. Damn, but that’s a hell of a thing.” He coughed to cover up the tightness in his throat. “Jacobs dead. Damn. That just ain’t right.”  
Xxx  
Ames felt the warmth of a blanket being draped over his shoulders, and he looked up to see Wheat settling himself down on that log, beside him. The discussion about hanging Seth had dwindled away, and folks were finding places around the fire to set and eat. Wheat slapped some beans onto a plate, picked out four slices of bacon and grabbed a hot biscuit, then surprised Ames, by handing the plate to him.  
He took it out of habit, but looked down at the food as though it was crawling with worms. “I ain’t hungry.”  
“I’m sure you ain’t,” Wheat grumbled, as he dished out his own plateful. “But yer gonna eat, anyways.”  
“Why?”  
“’Cause I say so, that’s why,” Wheat snarked, then sighed, when he caught the Kid sending him a look. “Listen, there weren’t nothin’ wrong with what you done today. Especially if Emmett was the one who pulled the trigger, like Seth there, says.” Both men were silent for a moment as Wheat thought about the situation. “It don’t seem right,” he continued. “I ain’t got much use fer lawmen, mind ya’, but fer a sheriff, Jacobs weren’t too bad a fella. I know, Heyes and the Kid seemed ta’ think he was alright.”  
“Yeah, he was alright,” Ames quietly agreed, as he continued to stare at his food. “It’s just that…I ain’t never…Have you, ever…?”  
“What? Kilt somebody?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Can’t say as I have,” Wheat admitted. “Come close once. I kind ‘a wish I’d a come closer. But then I wouldn’t be sittin’ here, eatin’ beans with a bunch ‘a law men.”  
Ames looked up and scanned the faces illuminated in the firelight. Everyone was eating, and quiet discussions were going on between groups as they all adjusted to the bad news from home.  
“They ain’t all law men,” he said.  
“Believe me,” Wheat countered. “If they’re ridin’ with a posse, then they’re law men.”  
“So that makes you a law man, too.”  
“Ain’t no need ta’ insult,” Wheat snarked. “You keep that up, and I’ll just go on over there and sit with the Kid, and leave you on yer lonesome.”  
“Sorry,” Ames mumbled, and hung his head again.  
Wheat instantly regretted his harsh tone. “When it comes down to it, I guess you’re a law man too, ain’t ya’?”  
Wheat cracked a crooked smile, when Ames actually laughed a little.  
“Yeah,” Ames agreed. “I guess I am.”  
“So what you done, was legal,” Wheat continued as he sopped up beans with a biscuit. “Not like when ya’ go around, settin’ fire ta’ things. Now that’s just downright loco. That ain’t you no more. Ya’ hear me? That was the old you. Yer a man now. If yer gonna hang around with me and Kyle, then you gotta show a certain amount of sense, and respectability. You done that today, boy. You showed your stuff. Now eat yer supper and stop feelin’ bad about it.”  
Ames smiled again, and nodded. He picked up the fork and speared a piece of bacon. Once he started to eat, he realized that he was hungry, and soon, he too was wiping up bean sauce with fresh pan biscuits.

To Be Continued.


	16. Heading Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Miranda wind up their stay in Red Rock, while the Kid tries to organize a meeting in Denver.

Heading Home

“You need to go talk with your father,” Steven prodded his wife. “You know that we’re leaving this evening, and you shouldn’t go with this rift between you.”  
Bridget stood looking out upon the street from the window of their hotel room. Her mouth hardened at the words her husband said, but she didn’t’ move her gaze from the activity going on beneath her. People were walking to and fro, entering the mercantile, or the saloon, or any other number of activities that citizens pursued while spending the morning in town.   
‘How can they carry on like this?’ she thought, with a rising resentment. ‘How can they go on about their daily business, knowing that a good man has died for no reason?’  
“Bridget,” Steven continued. “It’s not your father’s fault. You know that. Please, go and talk to him. You know darn well that he’s blaming himself for this. He needs you, of all people, to tell him that you don’t blame him.”  
Silence. Bridget continued to gaze out the window.  
“Bridget!”  
“Yes!” Bridget finally acknowledged him. “Alright. If you’re going to insist; let’s go and talk with him!”  
Swinging away from the window, she snatched up her shawl to ward off the morning chill and stomped towards the door of their room. Steven sighed, and gathering up his jacket, he followed her out of the room. This wasn’t really what he’d had in mind.  
“Bridget!” Steven called after her, as they hurried along the corridor. “Come on, wait for me.”  
With an air of impatience, Bridget stopped to wait for her husband to catch up.  
He came up beside her and slipped an arm around her waist.  
“Come on,” he said. “Don’t be like this. I know you’re hurting. But so is everyone else.” Bridget snorted derisively. “I know you don’t think so. But a lot of people here are going about their daily business, because that is the only way they know how to deal with it. Don’t judge them so harshly. You’re not the only one feeling this loss. Please, go to your father honestly. He’s hurting too.”  
Bridget sighed, but her defenses began to come down, and finally, she nodded.  
“Alright,” she agreed. “Let’s go and talk with him.”  
Steven smiled. “Good.”  
Xxx  
Steven and Bridget were just about to ascend the porch steps, when David exited his front door, on his way to start his rounds. He smiled as he spied the young couple, and he carried on down the steps to greet them.  
“Good morning,” he said. “Coming for a visit?”  
“Yes,” Steven concurred. “We’re going to be heading home in a few hours, so thought we would get our goodbyes in now. How is he?”  
“He’s doing fine,” came David’s generic answer. “I’m sure he would appreciate the company.”  
“Good,” Steven responded, and the two men exchanged glances, which were not lost upon Bridget.  
“I know,” she stated, pointedly. “I’ll go and speak with him. Is Mama here?”  
David smiled. “Yes,” he concurred. “She’s a bit rattled though. Sally is proving to be a bit of a handful.”  
“I thought Mama could handle anything,” Bridget commented, with a bit of a twinkle.  
David laughed. “Well, this one is proving to be a challenge. Hopefully, the child actually went to school today.”  
“Lesson learned, perhaps?” Steven asked.  
“Perhaps,” David agreed. “Well, I must be off. I expect, I’ll see you later, before you leave.”  
“Most likely,” Steven agreed, as he and his wife approached the stairs. “Have a good day.”  
Entering the house, they both greeted Tricia, who was busy clearing up the kitchen after a hasty breakfast. Eleanor was in her bassinet, on the table, playing with her brightly colored toys.  
“Hello,” Tricia greeted them. “I take it you’re here to see your father.”  
“Yes,’ Bridget agreed. “Is he up to company?”  
“Oh yes,” Tricia assure her. “Your mother’s in there now.”  
“Thank you,” Bridget said, and knocked quietly on the guest room door.  
A gentle ‘come in’ responded from inside, and the couple entered the bedroom.  
Belle smiled and got up to give her daughter a hug, then did the same to her son-in-law.  
“Good morning!” she greeted them. “We were beginning to wonder if we were going to be seeing you, before you headed for home.”  
“Yes, Mama,” Bridget accepted the mild reprimand. “We wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” She looked down at her father, feeling a little uncomfortable with the connection. “Papa. How are you this morning?”  
“I’m doing better, Bridget,” Jesse told her. “I’m glad to see you.”  
Bridget nodded, but she broke eye contact quickly and returned her attention to her mother.  
“How is Sally?” She asked. “David mentioned that she is being difficult.”  
Belle rolled her eyes. “That child! She can be a handful. She seems to have forgotten all about her ordeal and only has thoughts for that silly dog. It was all I could do to get her off to school this morning.”  
Bridget smiled. “It looks like they have a new dog, whether they want one or not.”  
“You folks are going to be needing a new ranch dog, aren’t you?” Steven asked. “Maybe you could take him?”  
“We’ll see,” Jesse commented. “He seems pretty attached to Sally. Even if we did take him, he might not stay on the ranch.”  
“But a ranch dog, in town,” Steven theorized. “That could be more trouble than it’s worth.”  
“I know,” Jesse agreed. “We’ll see. Ultimately, it’s going to be up to Hannibal and Miranda, whether they want a dog in town, or not.”  
Belle laughed. “I think, it’s going to be up to Blu,” she told them. “That dog has ideals of his own.”  
There was a consensus of agreement on that statement. Belle glanced at her husband, then at Bridget, and finally, she sent a meaningful look to Steven. Steven gave an imperceptible nod, and Belle responded.  
“Well,” she said with intent. “I believe, I will go and join Tricia for a cup of tea. Would you like to join us, Steven?”  
“Why, yes, I would, Belle,” Steven responded and held out his arm for his mother-in-law to take. “Thank you for the offer.”  
Bridget rolled her eyes, knowing full well that she was being set up. Once they left the room, she glanced down at her father, feeling a little awkward now that the time was here to make amends. She sat down in the chair that her mother had just vacated, and avoided her father’s eyes.  
Within moments, she felt the warmth of his hand on her’s, and she glanced up to meet his gentle gaze.  
“Are you angry with me?” He asked her.  
“A little,” Bridget quietly admitted, and looked away from him again. She felt his hand gently squeeze hers. “I don’t know why nobody ever listens to me.”  
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you. You don’t know how much, I wish that I had.”  
“Steven says that it’s nobody’s fault,” she reiterated. “That the sheriff would have gone out there anyways. That this was his job, and he knew the risks.”  
Jesse nodded. “Perhaps. I still feel that I egged him on, though. His own common sense was telling him to be cautious, and I…” Jesse’s words caught in his throat, and he shook his head with regret. “I don’t think that I’ll ever forgive myself.”  
Bridget felt her own throat tighten, and tears sting her eyes. Suddenly, all she felt, was overwhelming love for her father, and compassion for the pain that he was feeling.  
“Papa!” she cried, and came onto the bed, to embrace him.  
She felt his good arm wrap around her and hold her close, while he felt tears of both regret and relief roll down his cheeks.  
Xxx  
“How is he, really?” Steven asked quietly, so the couple in the guest room wouldn’t hear him.  
“He really is doing better,” Belle assured him. “David won’t let him go home yet, but I’m sure we’ll go soon. Are you sure you and Bridget have to get back? You could stay over for another couple of days. You could stay out at the ranch, if you’d like to.”  
“No, sorry, Belle,” Steven declined. “We can’t. I have cases that need my attention, and we both miss the girls. We’ll all try to get back here for Thanksgiving.”  
“Alright,” Belle accepted that. “Hopefully things will be more or less back to normal by then. Although, I suppose, in some areas, it’s going to be a long time before it feels normal again.”  
“Yeah. How is Merle handling it?”  
Tricia and Belle exchanged glances.  
“Not well,” Tricia answered. “David is helping her, though.”  
“I had no idea that she and Carl were that close,” Belle admitted. “They were very good at keeping that quiet.”  
Whatever conversation was to follow, was abruptly interrupted by footsteps coming up the outside stairs, followed by a determined knocking on the door.  
“Oh, what now?” Tricia grumbled, as she wiped her hands and headed over to open the front door. “David’s not here. He’s on his rounds.”  
“Oh, ah, I ain’t lookin’ fer the Doc,” came Kyle’s voice from the porch. “Jest wanted ta’ let ya’ know that the posse’s comin’ back.”   
“Oh!” Tricia responded. “Yes. Thank you, Mr. Murtry. Is everyone alright?”  
“Fer as I can tell,” Kyle told her, as his voice trailed off down the porch. “There’s a few more of ‘em comin’ back as what went out, too.”  
Tricia returned to the kitchen. “I’m going to go and take a look. Are you coming?”  
“Oh yes!” Belle agreed. “Steven?”  
“Sure, I’ll come along,” Steven responded. “I’ll just let Bridget know where we’re going.”  
The two ladies threw on their shawls, and Tricia quickly wrapped Eleanor up in a blanket. Eleanor protested at the interruption, but her mother ignored the comments as she scooped the baby up, and everyone headed outdoors.  
It seemed that half the town was congregating at the jailhouse, and there was quite a crowd gathered around outside the office, by the time the posse pulled up in front of it.  
A number of hearts jumped into throats at the sight of two of the horses packing what was obviously dead bodies wrapped up in bedrolls. A quick collective reckoning of people still sitting astride, soon put hearts and minds at ease when all the posse members were accounted for.  
“It looks like they got the youngest boy,” Steven commented. “But that other fella, that’s not Emmett, is it?”  
“No,” said Beth, who had come up to join them, her own bundled up baby on her hip. “I don’t recognize him.”  
“That’s some drifter that would often show up around this time to do some work for the Bairds,” Clayt informed them. “Don’t know what he’s got to do with all this. Maybe he was at the ranch when it all happened.”  
“Well, there’s Miss Baird, at least,” Belle stated, as her lips tightened in anger. “That young woman gave poor Sally the fright of her life. I hope she gets what’s coming to her.”  
“Really, Mama,” Beth teased her. “That’s not very charitable.”  
“Charity for those who deserve it,” Belle responded. “I do try to forgive people for their mistakes, but anyone who would treat a child like that, doesn’t deserve charity.”  
“It seems to me, that Joe agrees with you,” Beth observed, as Joe had taken Courtney by the arm, and hauled her out of the saddle.  
Her protesting continued all the way into the sheriff’s office.  
“Hey, Wheat! Ames! Yer back!”  
“Always one fer statin’ the obvious, ain’t ya’, Kyle?” Wheat mumbled. He walked over to Luke and gave him the same treatment as Joe had given Courtney.  
“Ouch! Watch it, ya oaf!” Luke complained as he struggled to stay on his feet. “I’m wounded here. I need a doctor.”  
“You’ll get a doctor, when he’s got time fer ya’!” Wheat informed him. “Fer now, you can sit in a jail cell, with yer girlfriend.”  
“She’s not my girlfriend!” Luke responded, in a tone that suggested, that he stated had that fact numerous times already.  
“Well that’s good,” said Wheat, as he gave Luke a shove. “’Cause where yer goin’, you ain’t likely to be seein’ much of her.”  
“Damn!” Luke cursed, as he stumbled from the shove. “One would think that I was the one who kilt yer sheriff, the way yer treatin’ me. I didn’t do anything.”  
“Tell it to the judge,” Wheat snarked, then sent a crooked smile to his partner. “I always wanted ta’ say that.”  
Lom came back to get Seth down from his saddle, and noticed the crowd quieting down. A sense of menace was suddenly in the air. Seth paled as he looked around at his former neighbors, who were all glaring at him.  
“You folks back off,” Lom warned the towns people. “This lad is under arrest, and he’ll face trial. It’s very likely that he ain’t even the one who pulled the trigger, so let’s not have any trouble here.”  
Grumbling began to grow, as people were not inclined to take Lom’s advice.  
“Oh dear,” said Belle.   
“Don’t worry, Mama,” Beth assured her. “Here comes Jed.”  
Sure enough, Jed, still mounted on Gov, moved his horse over to stand beside Lom. He sat easily in his saddle, with his right hand resting casually upon the grip of his gun, but his eyes meant business. The grumbling stopped, but not all the men backed away.  
“How do ya’ know, he didn’t do it?” asked one fella. “Them Bairds is all the same.”  
“Yeah,” voiced another. “I don’t care which one pulled the trigger. They’re all guilty as far as I’m concerned.”  
“This man is going to stand trial,” Lom repeated. “I won’t tolerate a mob takin’ the law into their own hands.”  
“Yeah? And who are you? You ain’t the law here.”  
“Hey!” came Joe’s voice from the office door. “What do you think you’re doing, Russ? And you, Clive. Go on home, and leave this to the law. Or do you not accept me as a representative of the law here, either?”  
All eyes turned to Joe, and hesitation showed within the group.  
“Do you think that this is what Carl Jacobs would want you to do?” Joe asked them. “He was a good man, and believed that folks had the right to live in peace and to raise their families in a safe, law-abiding community. He died upholding that belief. And now, here you all are, denying him that? Go on home to your families. Let us deal with this.”   
A little bit more grumbling followed this decree, but most of the crowd did start to disband. The last couple of hold-outs, shuffled their feet, glanced at the Kid and then back at Joe again.  
“Yeah, well if you say so, Joe,” Russ mumbled. “We just don’t want them Bairds getting’ away scott free is all.”  
“You see those two bodies over there?” Joe asked them. “That’s ole’ man Baird, and Emmett. Do they look like they got away with something?”  
“No, I guess they sure didn’t,” Clive agreed. “C’mon, Russ. Let’s go get us a beer.”  
Tensions relaxed and Lom turned back to the prisoner.  
“C’mon, Seth,” he said. “Get down.”  
Seth swung his right leg over the neck of the horse and allowed himself to slide to the ground. Lom took his arm and headed him in the direction of the office. Joe hung back a few minutes, and gave some final orders to the posse.  
“Floyd, would you take those two down to the undertakers?”  
“Sure, Joe,” Floyd agreed, and taking the two horses by the reins, he led them off, down the street towards that establishment.  
“Clancy and Sam, you fellas take care of the horses. And don’t let Eric boss ya’ around. Considering what these horses have been through, they’re all in good shape.”  
“I’ll look after Gov, myself,” Jed commented, as he swung down to the ground. “He’ll be happier out with his buddies.”  
“Yeah, okay,” Joe agreed, as he then tipped his hat to Tricia. “We do have two men wounded. Is your husband in town?”  
“No,” Tricia told him. “He’s out on his rounds. But I believe John is available. Why don’t you take the men down to him?”  
Joe nodded. “Bernie!”  
“Yeah.”  
“You know where John and Mary live, don’t you?”  
“A’ course.”  
“Well, make sure that Kurt gets there, alright. Ames, how about you? Are you feeling better now, or do you want to see the doc as well?”  
Ames was still looking a sorry sight, but Kyle had him by the arm, and he grinned a tobacco stained smile.  
“He’s alright,” the little ex-outlaw insisted. “Once Wheat is done in the jailhouse, we’re all goin’ over to the saloon, ta’ celebrate. Hey Kid! Ya’ wanna join us?”  
“Ah, not this time, fellas,” Jed told them. “I got other things to do.”  
Beth smiled and sidled up to her husband, and Jed wrapped his arm around her waist.  
Kyle’s grin grew. “Yeah, okay,” he acknowledged. “I see yer point. C’mon Ames, let’s go. I gotta give thanks fer my narrow escape from the claws of a downright, dangerous woman.”  
“Yeah, okay,” Ames agreed, as he and Kyle prepared to departure.  
“Are you sure, you’re alright, Ames?” Joe asked again. “I know this wasn’t the first time for you, but you still seem to be taking it kind’a hard.”  
Ames looked back at him, and swallowed, his complexion still pale sad. “I’m okay,” he said. “I just don’t like killin’, is all.”  
“There’d really be something wrong with ya’, if ya’ did,” Joe pointed out. “You’re a good man, Ames. Go and have a few beers with your friends.”  
“Yeah.”  
Kyle grinned and slapped Ames on the back. “You go and save the day agin?” he asked his buddy. “Well, I’ll be. You’s turnin’ inta a regular law man here.”  
“Not really,” Ames mumbled. “I didn’t mean to kill nobody. Neither time. It just…happened.”  
“At least it happened for the right reasons,” Jed put in. “Joe’s right. Go and relax. Have a couple of beers. Wheat’ll probably be over to join ya’ soon.”  
“Yeah, c’mon,” Kyle insisted, getting antsy. “It’s been real dull around here, since you fellas all run off. Let’s go.”  
Ames nodded, and the two friends departed.  
“Well, that takes care of them,” Joe commented. “Ah, Bernie!”  
Bernie pulled his horse to a halt. “Yeah?”  
“Tell John that we have a wounded prisoner as well,” Joe reminded him. “Ask him to come up to the jailhouse as soon as Kurt gets seen to.”  
Bernie tipped his hat, and the two young men carried on their way.  
“Okay, everybody’s accounted for,” Joe surmised. “Now for the paperwork.”  
Steven grinned. “I don’t envy you that, Deputy.”  
“Yeah,” Joe grumbled. “Oh well. It’s all part of the job. I’ll see you fellas later. Ladies.”  
“See you later, Joe,” Jed told him. “As for me, I’m going to get Gov taken care of, and then spend some time with my family.”  
Clayt stepped in and prevented him from going anywhere. “Thought you’d like to know, there’s a telegram waitin’ for ya’ at my office.”  
“Oh,” Jed perked up. “That’s probably from Heyes. Yeah, I should…”  
“I’ll go and get it,” Belle said. “You carry on.”  
“Once you get cleaned up, why don’t you come over to our place for lunch?” Tricia offered. “It looks like there’s quite a story to be told.”  
“We’d love to,” Beth answered, before Jed could decline. He was tired. “We’ll see you shortly.  
Xxx  
An hour later, Jed was sitting at the table in David’s kitchen, reading the telegram that Belle had retrieved for him.  
“Heyes and Miranda have been at Mac’s for a couple ‘a days now,” he informed the group. “That’s good. At least I know where he is. As soon as we’re done here, I’ll send him another telegram, to find out when he’s coming home, and that Scotland Yard wants to hire us for a job.”  
“It’s so exciting,” Beth gushed. “Scotland Yard! Almost as exciting as working for Pinkertons.”  
“Yeah, I suppose,” Jed agreed. “But it won’t amount to anything, if’n we don’t get Heyes signed in to that poker game. Time’s wasting, here.” He frowned, and his expression turned reflective. “I wonder…”  
Belle laughed at the simple comment that so succinctly described the expression on his face.  
“You wonder what?” She asked.   
“Oh, ahh,” Jed came back to the present company. “Sendin’ telegrams back and forth is really wastin’ time we don’t have. I’m just wonderin’ if Red Rock would have one of them new-fangled telephones. It ain’t that big ‘a town, so it probably don’t, but if there is, I could head in to Denver get in touch with him that way.”  
“Those telephones are certainly an amazing invention,” Jesse commented from his wheelchair. “They’ve been around for quite some time now, but I’ve never lived anywhere that had one. They must take a bit of getting used to.”  
“I can’t imagine it,” Belle said. “Talking to someone who’s way on the other side of the country. I declare, communication is becoming more and more sophisticated with every year that passes.”  
“That’s why Heyes and I got out of the outlawin’ business,” Jed said with a grin. “The telegraph was bad enough, but a horse can’t outrun the telephone.”  
Beth smiled at him, and gave him a playful jab. “Oh come on,” she teased him. “There were more reason than that. You were both tired of the life, and you knew that what you were doing was wrong.”  
“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “But technology played a big part in helpin’ us ta’ make that decision.”  
“You were wise to get out of it, when you did,” Jesse told him. “You’d both probably be dead by now, if you hadn’t.”  
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Jed agreed, and then coughed after taking a bite of his sandwich.  
“Oh my,” Belle commented. “That cough is sounding worse. Spending a chilly night in the mountains probably wasn’t the best thing you could have done.”  
“David will be home soon,” Tricia informed them. “Maybe you should let him have a listen.”  
Jed groaned. “I’m alright,” he insisted, but then coughed again.  
“I think you better see David,” Beth joined the opposition. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to go to Denver right away.”  
“Aw, Darlin’, I’m fine.”  
“No,” Jesse interjected. “The ladies are right, Jed. If your lungs are feeling anything like mine, you want to be careful. It’s an easy thing for pneumonia to set in. You don’t want that.”  
Jed sighed. “Yeah, I know.  
“I could always get in touch with Hannibal,” Steven offered. “We’re heading back to Denver anyway. You find out if Red Rock has a telephone, and I’ll make the call.”  
“That’s a good idea,” Bridget concurred. “It’ll give you a chance to rest up, Jed, before you have to be there for this job.”  
“Yeah, I suppose that could work,” Jed agreed, albeit, reluctantly. “Finney could tell you what information to pass along. That is, if he is who he says he is. Still, I feel like I should be the one…”  
“Let’s wait and see what David says,” Tricia suggested. “If he says that it’s okay for you to go, then it’s settled. But if not…”  
Jed groaned.  
Just then, the front door opened, and David himself came into the foyer.  
“Hello,” he greeted the gathering. “We have a full house today. You fellas got back sooner than I thought you would.”  
“Yeah,” Jed confirmed. “The Bairds weren’t too smart when it came ta’ hidin’ out.”  
David carried on into the kitchen, and then stopped short in surprise.  
“My goodness,” he commented. “Were you aware that there are two pink, squiggly things, lying on the floor?”  
“Hey!” Beth protested, with a laugh. “T.J. is not a pink, squiggly thing!”  
“He sure is!” David insisted. “Look at him.”  
“You do have a point,” Beth concurred, as she looked down at her son playing on the floor. “And I suppose, I might take more offense, if you weren’t referring to your own daughter, as well.”  
David smiled. “They do seem content down there. Just don’t anybody step on them.”  
To prove his point, he carefully stepped over the two infants, and made his way to the empty chair at the other end of the table. He sat down and helped himself to a sandwich from the platter while Tricia ladled him out a bowl of soup.  
“How was your morning?” she asked him, as she set the bowl down in front of him. “Any surprises?”  
“No,” David told her. “Just routine. How about you, Jesse? It’s not too tiring for you to be up for lunch?”  
“No,” Jesse assured him, sounding a little amazed himself. “I’m fine. I don’t think I’ll be up for much longer though. I don’t want to push it.”  
“Hmm,” David nodded his agreement. “I hear there were some casualties on the manhunt. Anything I need to deal with?”  
“No,” Jed answered him. “Some minor injuries, but John is looking after them. Ole’ man Baird, and Emmett are both dead.”  
“Yes,” David mumbled. “I ran into Mr. Carlson on my way to the livery. He informed me of the situation. Seth and Courtney are both in custody? Is that correct?”  
“Yeah,” Jed concurred.  
The doctor nodded again as he took some soup. “A sad situation,” he said quietly. “Do we know who actually did the shooting?”  
“No, not yet,” Jed told him. “But ah, do you still have the bullet?”  
“Yes,” David assured him. “Steven told me that they can do tests on it to find out which gun was used. It’s quite amazing what they can do these days.” David frowned as Jed started coughing again. “Eww, that doesn’t sound good. Better let me have a listen to that after lunch.”  
Jed groaned.  
Xxx  
David pressed the stethoscope against Jed’s chest and listened intently.  
Jed sat still and stiff in the chair, his shirt and henley settled into a small pile on the desk next to them. He always felt uncomfortable under these circumstances, stripped to the waist, with David hovering over him. It wasn’t natural. But he tolerated it. Once David insisted on something, there was no getting out of it. The man could be a tyrant.  
“Deep breath,” the doctor instructed.  
Jed drew air into his lungs and instantly began coughing again. David listened until the coughing subsided, then moved the stethoscope to another section of his patient’s chest.  
“Again.”  
Jed complied and coughed again, but not quite as harshly.  
“Hmm,” David mumbled.  
Jed slumped. “What?”  
“Hmm? Oh no, nothing.” David backed off, and letting the stethoscope hang from his neck, he sat down on the edge of his desk and folded his arms. “They’re much improved.”  
“Well, that’s good. So then I can…”  
“But…” David continued. “Your little sojourn into the mountains didn’t do you any favors. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go to Denver at this time.”  
“But Heyes and I have a job to do there,” Jed protested. “I need to get in touch with him.”  
“Can’t you do that from here?”  
“Well, by telegram, yeah,” Jed admitted. “But that’ll be kind ‘a slow. I thought I’d try that telephone thing that’s at the Brown Palace.”  
David was skeptical. “It’s my understanding that you need two of those things you know. One at each end.”  
Jed sent him a smirk, as he pulled his shirts back on. “I know that, David. I was gonna send Heyes a telegram from here and ask him if there was one in Red Rock. That way we could actually discuss this job, rather than try doing it by telegram. It’s important.”  
“Nothing is more important than your health,” David countered, irritatingly, then held up his hand to forestall Jed’s predictable protest. “Why don’t you send the telegram and find out first, if Hannibal has a phone at his disposal. This could all be a moot point, if he doesn’t.”  
“Yeah, I suppose.”  
“And do you have to be the one who talks with him?” David continued to question. “Steven and Bridget are heading back there tonight. Why can’t Steven pass on the message?”  
Jed sighed. “It’s not that simple. We need to discuss this.”  
“From what I have seen of the way you and your cousin communicate, you don’t need a telephone to discuss anything,” David told him. “Let him know that he’s needed back here by a certain date, and let it go at that.”  
“There’s more to it than that,” Jed persisted. “We need to go over a few things. I don’t even know who this Finney guy is. I’m hoping that Kenny can get some information on him, before Heyes gets back. And Heyes might know something about ‘im. He might not be a Scotland Yard man at all.”  
David smiled at Jed’s suspicions. “Who do you think he is?”  
“I donno!” Jed snarked, and then coughed a little bit. “Damn!” he cursed. “I’m beginning to sound like Wheat.”  
“And that’s my point.” David jumped at the chance. “Mr. Carlson is not going to be getting better, but you still have a chance to. Do you want to be like your friend for the rest of your life? You’d have to move to California.”  
Jed sent him a dirty look. “I like it fine, right here.”  
“Then look after yourself. I think you’re being a little overly-cautious when it comes to Mr. Finney. There is no reason for him to pretend to be someone he is not.”  
“Sure there is!” Jed insisted. “Look at Amy. No one questioned her identity, and look what she did!”  
“Is that what you think, Jed?” David asked him. “That every new person who comes into your life is automatically doubted and put under scrutiny?”   
“Yes!” Jed told him. “I ain’t riskin’ my family again. There are people out there who would stoop to any level to get at us. All that stuff with Mitchell and Amy proves it. We have to be careful who we trust. We have to be.”  
Another mild coughing fit followed this declaration, and David waited for it to pass.  
“I can understand your concern,” he conceded, once things settled down. “But you can’t go through life feeling that way.”  
“Why not?” Jed asked. “It’s saved our necks more than once.”  
“But, you’re not outlaws anymore,” David argued. “There is no longer a reward out on your heads. There’s no need to be constantly looking over your shoulders, waiting for the hammer to fall.”  
“Well, I don’t agree,” Jed responded. “I ain’t gonna barricade myself inside a fortress, but a little bit ‘a caution don’t hurt nobody. If Mitchell, and Amy, and Julia Stanton could hold a grudge as long as they did, and act on it, then anybody can. Now I don’t know who this Finney fella is, so I just wanna make sure that me and Heyes ain’t gonna be walkin’ into a trap.”  
“Yes, alright,” David agreed, though a little reluctantly. “I suppose you have a point. But Kenny said that he would do some digging for you?”  
“Yeah,” Jed concurred. “Once they get home. But they will be carrying on further east after that, so I’m hopin’ he’s got enough time to find something.”  
“Kenny seems very resourceful,” David mused, needlessly. “I’m sure he’ll find something. Still, I ask that you hold off going to Denver.” Again, David raised his hand to ward off the protesting. “At least until you have to go for the job. When is that?”  
“The poker game starts in two weeks,” Jed surmised. “If this job is legit, then we need to be there a few days in advance, in order to set up a plan. And Heyes has to get registered to play. I don’t even know if he will agree to that. I don’t know why he didn’t tell me that he had been invited to play. That would be a real honor for him, to be invited into that game. Why would he not say anything?”  
“You’ll have to ask him that one,” David commented. “I’m sure he has his reasons.”  
“I know, but, gesh…well, anyway, now you see why I need to talk to him, and not just in telegrams.”  
David sighed. “I suppose you have a point. But, please, find out first if there is a telephone in Red Rock, before you go running off to Denver.”  
“I will,” Jed agreed. “I’ll go send a telegram to Heyes right now.”  
Xxx  
Over in the jail house, Joe was having to deal with his own set of problems.  
“How dare you lock me up like this!” Courtney was complaining. “If my father was still alive, he’d never let you get away with this!”  
Joe sat at his desk and rolled his eyes. “You’re still not getting this, are you?” he asked her. “If your pa was still alive, he’d be in one of those cells right along with you.”  
“This isn’t fair!” Courtney continued, and stamped her foot before beginning her cell pacing once again. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”  
“You’ve heard the charges against you,” Joe reminded her. “What are you protesting?”  
“It’s a daughter’s duty to help her family,” Courtney insisted. “Even if they are a bunch of low down, dirty…oh, not you, Seth. I guess you’re alright.”  
Seth sat on the bunk in the cell next to his sister. He was sharing the space with Luke, but neither one of them seemed particularly amiable. Luke had just had John check his arm, and bandage up the wound, but it still hurt like the dickens and nobody seemed to care. Seth was scared about what his fate was going to be and the last thing he was concerned about, was the good opinion of his sister.  
“Yeah, I’m alright,” he grumbled, sarcastically. “Even if they don’t hang me for a murder I didn’t do, I’m still probably gonna do time, just for bein’ with them. Then what? I won’t be able to come back here, that’s sure as shootin’. I’ve got nothin’.”  
“We’ve still got the ranch,” Courtney reminded him. “I was going to sell it anyway. Now we only have to split the money two ways. When you get out of prison, you’ll still have a stake. You can start new, somewhere else.”  
“Don’t ya’ mean three ways?” Seth asked her. “Ain’t you forgettin’ Isabelle?”  
Courtney sighed dramatically. “Oh, yes. I guess, we will have to include her, won’t we?”  
“And don’t forget about paying for a lawyer or two,” Joe pointed out. “Both of you having to pay legal fees is going to take quite a chunk.”  
“What do you mean, both of us?” Courtney turned mean again. “I didn’t do anything wrong!!”  
Luke sat in the corner of his cell and sulked. Damn, at least they’d have money to pay for lawyer fees.  
Xxx  
Red Rock, Texas  
The hot wind blew through Heyes’ hair, as the young colt powered off his hind quarters and galloped joyfully across the open countryside. On one hand, Heyes was rejoicing in the exuberance of the gallop, and on the other, he was feeling a little off balance at the difference between the Andalusian’s high stepping gait, and his own mare’s long and low, flat out gallop. Both styles had their flair and power, but the new one did take a bit of getting used to.  
Aside from that, Alejandro was living up to the promise he had shown in the training ring. He was full of fire and power, yet he respected his rider, and moved easily off rein and leg. He loved going for a gallop, but as soon as Heyes sat deep and asked him to slow the speed, the young horse responded instantly and came down to a high-stepping canter.  
Heyes laughed and gave the stallion a pat on the neck. Alejandro tossed his long, full mane and snorted with pleasure. Heyes brushed back his own long, full locks, and pulled his hat back into place. He really should get a haircut. He gave the stallion a few more strokes of appreciation, and the horse came down to a prancing trot, showing off his stuff and knowing that he was a magnificent creature.  
Coming back into the stable yard, Carlo, the young groom, came out of the barn to meet them, and to take the horse’s bridle.  
“Did you enjoy the ride, Senor?” he asked.  
“Yes. Very much,” Heyes exuded, his dimples dancing along with the horse’s prancing steps. He was almost reluctant to pull up and dismount.  
“I will cool him off,” Carlo informed him.  
Heyes nodded, suspecting that this was Carlo’s way of politely telling him to get off. He dismounted and handed the reins over to the groom. With one last appreciative pat to the grey dappled neck, Heyes walked away and headed towards the house.  
It was habit now, for him to glance up to their balcony when returning from this direction, and sure enough, there was his wife, smiling at him from on high. What she found so fascinating about watching him walking across the courtyard, was beyond him, but if that was what gave her pleasure, then far be for for him to deny her. He took off his hat and waved it at her, then brushing his long bangs off his face yet again, he plunked the hat back on and continued into the house.  
This side entrance was quiet and empty, which suited Heyes, as he wanted to get up to their room and get out of his riding clothes before dinner. Even after just a short gallop, the heat of the afternoon sun had brought up a heavy layer of perspiration on his skin, and the dust was caking him form hat brim to boot toes.  
Starting up the steps, he heard a soft noise on the landing, and looking up, he met his wife’s laughing eyes.  
“You’re a fine sight,” she told him. “Was having a ride on that colt worth the spectacle that you are now?”  
“Yes,” Heyes responded adamantly, as he continued up the stairs. “That was incredible. I’ve never ridden a horse that moved like that before. It was completely different from how Karma moves, and it really takes some getting used to.”  
“Hmm,” Randa commented, as she took her husband by the arm and led him into their room.  
“It’s like, both horses move forward, and of course, both are galloping,” Heyes continued to explain, as Randa took off his hat and began to unbutton his shirt. “But that’s where the similarity ends. When I’m riding Karma, she’s low and running flat out. I can feel her hind quarters powering her body forward, and she’s going like the wind…”   
“Yes, she is fast,” Randa agreed, as she pulled off his shirt and began unbuttoning his trousers.  
Heyes grinned foolishly, as he recollected his mare. “Yes, she is. But now, this colt. I mean, you can still feel the power in him, you know? But it’s like, he’s moving forward, but up at the same time. You know what I mean?”  
“Not really, no,” Miranda admitted, as she pulled his trousers down. “Now sit down on the bed, and pull those boots off.”  
“Oh, yeah.” Heyes did as instructed, his gaze still distant and sparkling. “It was like, he was at a full gallop, but prancing at the same time. Almost like when Karma wants to run, and I’m not letting her. She gets up on her toes and sometimes, rearing, but she wants to go forward. You know?”  
“Hmm hmm,” Miranda concurred as she pulled off Heyes’ trousers, one leg at a time.  
“But with this colt, it’s controlled,” Heyes continued. “He’s not fighting with me, He’s galloping forward, but he’s going up, too. It was the strangest feeling…amazing, really. Oh he and Karma would make a fine foal. I’m sure of it. I hope Carlotta will give us a breeding. I’m sure she will, once she sees Karma. I mean, who can resist her? Oh!” He stopped talking a frowned over at the object setting in the far corner. How had he not noticed that? “There’s a bath tub in the room.”  
“Yes! Mr. Observant!” Miranda teased him. “I had it brought up, so that you could get a wash before we went down to supper.”  
“Oh.” Heyes’ eyes came back to the present, and his gaze and smile were now for his wife. “You’re amazing.”  
“Yes, I know,” Miranda agreed.   
“What did you do with my clothes?”  
“They’re over there, in a pile. We’ll get them laundered in the morning. Now get in that tub, and get cleaned up. I’ll scrub your back, if you want.”  
The shy, little boy dimples appeared through the grime.  
“I’d like that.”  
Xxx  
Dinner had been cleared away, and the group around the table were settling in for an after supper drink, when Mac’s man made a discreet appearance in the small courtyard.  
“Yes, Mike, what is it?” Mac asked him.  
“Sorry to disturb you,” Mike said, as he came forward. “but there was a telegram in town for Mr. Heyes.”  
“Oh. Well, there he is, give it to him.”  
Mike turned to Heyes, and handed him the paper.  
Heyes sat up eagerly, hoping that it was from the Kid, and it was. Miranda watched his face intently, fearful that there might be bad news, then she frowned as she saw her husband do the same thing.  
“What is it?” she asked him.  
Heyes shrugged. “I’m not really sure,” he admitted, then added quickly to put his wife at ease. “Nothing here about Sally.”   
Miranda smiled and did visibly relax. “Good. But what does he say?”  
“Something about a job in Denver,” Heyes paraphrased. “And the poker game. Oh. Damn. How did he know about...? No, never mind. Ahh.” His frown deepened, and he glanced over at Mac. “Does Red Rock have a telephone?”  
“A telephone!?” Mac bellowed. “What does he need a telephone for?”  
Heyes shrugged. “I donno. He’s just asking. Does Red Rock have a telephone?”  
“Do you think Texas is still in the 17th century?” Mac demanded. “Of course there’s a telephone. It’s at the hotel. Doesn’t the town you live in have a telephone?”  
“Well. No, it doesn’t,” Heyes admitted.  
Mac snorted. “And you northerners call us heathens. Why, Galveston’s had a telephone since ’77! Can’t say that it worked very well, mind you. But there was one there. Never did have much use for those contraptions, myself. Didn’t figure they’d last. You can hardly hear a damn thing on them. Best to stick with telegrams, and other written correspondence, as far as I’m concerned. That way you know your message is at least getting through. Silly things are useless. Can’t see the point in them, myself.”  
“But the hotel in town, does have one?” Heyes asked for clarification. “One that works?”  
“Well, no,” Mac admitted with a touch of embarrassment. “I can’t say that’ it actually works. Can’t hear a dang thing, just a lot of blasted crackling in your ear. What damn good is that?”  
“Why say that there’s a phone in town, if it doesn’t work?” Heyes argued.  
“You didn’t ask me if it worked!” Mac reasoned. “Just if we had one!”  
“Would you like me to send a reply?” Mike interrupted this debate.  
“No,” Heyes mumbled. “What’s the point of telling him that there’s a phone here, if it doesn’t work?”  
“Don’t worry about it, Mike,” Mac told his man. “We’ll go into town and deal with it in the morning.”  
“Yessir, Mr. McCreedy,” Mike replied, barely concealing his relief. “Goodnight.”  
“Yes, yes, goodnight.”  
Mike tipped his hat to the ladies, and departed.  
Heyes continued to contemplate the telegram, the scowl on his face growing rather than dissipating, with the news.  
“Hannibal, what is it?” Miranda asked him. “It sounds like good news to me.”  
“What? Oh yes, I suppose it is,” Heyes confirmed. “But how did he know about the game in Denver? And what’s this about a job?”  
“That’s probably why he wants to talk with you on a phone,” Randa pointed out. “But we’re heading home soon. It will get cleared up then.”  
“Yes, I suppose.”  
Miranda settled back, but was not fully convinced that her husband was content with her conclusion. Something else was bothering him, something that he obviously did not wish to discuss, at least not here and now, in company. That’s was alright. It could wait until they had retired to their room for the evening.  
“It will be nice to go into town, tomorrow,” Carlotta commented. “I have not been for some days now. There are some fine shops. Perhaps while the men are attending to their business, we can do some shopping.”  
“Oh yes,” Miranda agreed. “That would be lovely.”  
Xxx  
“What about the game in Denver?” Miranda asked, as she and Hannibal settled in for the evening in their room. “Isn’t that the one you were hoping to get an invitation to?”  
“Yes.”  
Miranda waited, but nothing more was forthcoming.  
“Well?” she asked again. “Why is Jed bringing it up in a telegram?”  
“I donno.”  
Miranda sighed as she pulled down the sheet on their bed. “Lying by omission is still lying, you know.”  
“Arrgg!”  
Miranda smiled. When he sat down on the edge of the bed, and ran his hands through his hair, she knew she had him. “Did you get an invitation to it?” she pushed.  
“Fine,” Heyes snarked. “Yes, I did.”  
“Well, that’s wonderful!” Randa stated, her smile sparkling up her eyes. “So, what’s the problem?”  
“I didn’t accept,” Heyes informed her. “It’s no different than playing here, at Mac’s game; I’m not going to risk that much money on poker. I have a family now to think about. Maybe, once our business is more established, I’ll take the risk, but not now.”  
“Oh, Hannibal,” Miranda scolded him lightly, as she sat down on the bed beside him. “But it’s your dream. You’ve always wanted to play in that game. You always said what an honor it would be to be invited, as you, and not under some factious alias. If you decline the invitation now, they may not offer it again.”  
Heyes got to his feet and started to pace. There was that feeling again, of being pushed into a corner. Of being in a situation where just because he said so, wasn’t a good enough reason for his decisions to be accepted. He was used to the Kid not letting him get away with it, but now he had a wife who wouldn’t let him, either.  
“That’s a chance I’ll have to take,” he declared. “I’m not going to risk our money on a poker stake. That’s not what responsible husbands and fathers do.”  
“If it’s our money, then it should be our decision,” Randa pointed out. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”  
“Because you’d just offer to give me your money to cover the buy in,” Heyes explained. “and I’m getting tired of turning you down.”  
“Then don’t turn it down,” Miranda insisted. “Take it. I’ve said it over and over again; the money is not just mine, it is ours. You’ve always wanted an invitation to that game. You’ll regret it, if you don’t go. I want you to go.”  
Heyes stopped pacing and stood quietly for a moment, contemplating his options.  
“It’s a lot of money,” he stated.  
“I know it is.”  
“What if I lose it all?”  
“I doubt that you will, but if you did, we’d survive.”  
“I’ve lost more than that, before.”  
“You’ve also won more than that, and more often than you’ve lost.”  
“I really shouldn’t.”  
“Yes, you should.”  
Heyes sighed. This was going nowhere.  
“Tell you what,” he suggested. “I’ll get in touch with the Kid, and find out what this is all about. Then I’ll decide if I’m going to enter the game or not. Alright?”  
“How long do you have to change your mind? Haven’t you already turned it down?”  
Heyes shook his head. “No. I simply didn’t get back to them. Somehow, I just couldn’t make the decision final.”  
Miranda smiled. Standing up, she went to her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist.  
“You see?” she teased. “You knew you wanted to do it, and now you can.”  
“Yes, alright,” Heyes submitted. “But let me talk with the Kid first. It might be that this job he mentioned will prevent me from going to the game, anyway.”  
“This is true,” she agreed. “And you’re right; speak with Jed first, and then you can decide. Now, let’s get to bed. I’m tired, and it sounds like we could have a busy day tomorrow.”  
Xxx  
Heyes awoke with a start. He was cold, and he felt bruised and battered, as though he’d had a bad fall or a bad beating. He tried to clarify his mind, so he could remember what had happened, and where he was, but nothing was coming.  
A spasm of shivering rolled over him, and he reached down to pull the blankets up. Apparently the heat of the previous day had dissipated and now the early morning chill was seeping in. He felt around for the heavy material but couldn’t find it. Opening his eyes to help in the search, he was surprised to find himself in complete darkness. Even in the wee hours of the morning, there had always been light from the stars and moon coming in from their open patio doors.  
He brought himself up on an elbow and looked towards that door, but again, he could only see darkness.  
His elbow began to hurt, and he realized that instead of being supported by the soft mattress, his arm was resting upon a hard and cold surface. He frowned and reach down in search of the blanket again, but could not find it.  
Worry and a touch of fear began to wiggle into his gut, as the rough texture of his clothing, brought memories of a horrendous past flooding back to his consciousness. Almost frantically, he felt behind him, searching for the reassurance of his wife’s presence.  
A knot hit his gut like a harbinger of doom, and a cold sweat instantly drenched him, when all his fingers found was hard, unyielding steel. He was sitting up in an instant and feeling all around him for the edge of the bed. It wasn’t there! He wasn’t on a bed, he was lying on a floor; an impersonal and imposing floor. He knew that this could only mean one thing.  
But surely his senses were betraying him. This can’t be right! He can’t be here! He’s married now, has a family and a home. He can’t be here!  
But he was.  
He scrambled to his hands and knees, frantically feeling for a way out of this nightmare. Reaching out and searching with his fingertips, all he met up with was the cold floor and the four corners of the dark cell.  
Fighting tears of anguish, he scrambled into a corner and hugged his knees to his chest. He sat there for what seemed an eternity, rocking himself back and forth and praying for this reality to be over.  
Xxx  
Miranda slowly drifted up from sleep. She wasn’t sure, at first, what had awakened her, but as she became more aware, she realized that Hannibal was having another bad night. She sighed, regretfully. His nightmares had been tapering off, to where she had begun to hope that they might leave him forever. But this was not happening, and although they were less intense than they once were, they continued to invade their nights.  
Even before she touched him, she knew he would be cold and damp with perspiration. He always was, and even though he often wouldn’t even remember having a nightmare during his slumbers, they often left him drained and tired the next day. Miranda recognized the signs, as they were almost always the same. His breathing was erratic and stressed, and though, in this dream he was silent, his jaw was tight and he was under duress.  
David and Jed had both warned her not to touch him while he was in the throes of one of these nightmares, but she found that she couldn’t comply with that. Her first instinct had always been to comfort and soothe his troubled sleep. And for her, this strategy tended to work. Never had he responded to her touch with violence, even if his nightmare was of that nature. Her touch and gentle voice had always calmed him, and she did not fear him while he was in this state.  
She sat up and reached to the foot of the bed and pulled up the blanket that was folded there. She wasn’t feeling the need for it, but she knew that Hannibal would be cold and would appreciate it. So tucking it up and around him, she settled back down and began to gently caress his arm and whisper assurances to him.  
“Shh. It’s just a dream. You’re safe, Hannibal.”  
She felt his breathing begin to calm down, and she snuggled in closer, wrapping her arms around him and holding him in a loving embrace.  
“It’s alright,” she continued in a gentle whisper. “You’re in our bed, and I’m with you. You’re safe.”  
Hannibal drew in a breath and sighed deeply. With a quiet moan, his body relaxed, and rolling over, he took his wife into his arms and settled into a deep and peaceful sleep.  
Xxx  
As daylight took over their room, Miranda continued to lie beside her husband until he began to show signs of life. His eyes slowly opened, and he yawned and stretched and yawned again. She smiled and rubbed his arm.  
“Good morning,” she greeted him. “How did you sleep?”  
“Good,” he graveled out in his morning voice, then he frowned and sighed. “I think riding that colt took more out of me than I expected, though. It must be his different way of going; my muscles aren’t used to it.”  
“Yes, perhaps.”  
They lie quietly together for a little while, listening to the sounds of the household waking up, but neither one giving any indication that they were ready to proceed. Miranda snuggled in under his arm, and he held her close while gently caressing her expanding belly. He continued to stare up at the ceiling, then smiled at the resident rooster’s belated announcement of the day’s arrival. He stretched again.  
“I suppose we should get up,” he mumbled. “We do have to go in to town today.”  
“Hmm. Yes, I know. But there’s no real rush, is there?”  
“Well,” Heyes surmised. “If I can get the telegram to the Kid this morning, then I might get an answer back from him after lunch. I would like to get this cleared up. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to head for home.”  
Miranda smiled. “Yes.”  
“But I sure don’t feel like getting out of this bed,” Heyes admitted. “The thing is, I don’t really feel muscle sore, just dragged out.”  
“Hmm.”  
They continued to lie quietly together, but Miranda could hear her husband thinking. Finally, he came to his own conclusion, and the inevitable question was asked.  
“Did I have another nightmare last night?”  
“Yes.”  
Groan.  
“But it wasn’t a bad one,” Randa assured him. “You weren’t thrashing around or yelling out loud or anything. You were just upset. You settled quickly enough. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”  
Heyes sighed. “I suppose,” he grumbled. “I can’t remember it. Maybe that’s a good thing. I don’t know. I wish they’d stop though. It’s not very nice for you to have to wake up and deal with them.”  
“Oh, don’t you worry about me,” Randa told him. “Besides, they are becoming less frequent, and certainly not as intense. David’s not worried about them, so no reason why you should be.”  
“I suppose,” he said again. “Well, let’s get up and get on with our day. Feels like it’s going to be another hot one.”  
Xxx  
The morning started out in the usual fashion; breakfast in the courtyard, with Mac’s booming personality dominating the ritual. Even when he spoke quietly, Big Mac had the tendency to rule supreme over his audience. Heyes used to find it irritating, that he could lose control over a room when Mac was present. But he had learned some humility during his time in prison, and now, he was more willing to set back and allow another to draw attention. On top of that, he had also become a master at circumnavigating a block in the system and could generally undermine the rancher whenever it suited him. Subliminally, of course.  
By the time 10:00 am had rolled around, breakfast had been cleared away and a four seater open carriage was made ready for the group to make the trip in to town. Heyes assisted his wife into the carriage and waited for Mac to offer the same respect to Carlotta. Mac did his husbandly duty, then sent a scrutiny to his guest.  
“What’s the matter with you today?” he asked Heyes.  
“What?” Heyes asked him, suddenly being brought back to the present.  
“I don’t know what!” Mac boomed. “That’s why I’m asking you.”  
“Oh.” Heyes acknowledged his distraction. “It’s nothing, Mac. Just wondering what the Kid has up his sleeve.”  
“Uh huh,” Mac grumbled as the two men settled themselves into their seats. “You look like you’re seen a ghost. We need to get you in to town, get some good red wine into your system. That’s what you need.”  
“I’m fine, Mac,” Heyes insisted. “Apparently, I could have slept better, but I’m good. We’ll get this thing sorted out with the Kid, and then we’ll be on our way. Time to head for home.”  
“Oh, well, if that’s the way you want to be.”  
“Leave them alone,” Carlotta told her husband. “They have been away from home for some time now. I can understand them wanting to return there. Why must you take everything so personally?”  
“I don’t take everything personally!” Mac protested, as the carriage jerked into motion and the group was on its way. “Didn’t I just ask the lad if he was alright? He looks a little piqued to me, that’s all. A day in town just might be the ticket. Shouldn’t be too hot, either. Certainly no higher than 105. Nice balmy day! Might even take a walk around the town square myself.”  
“You?” asked Carlotta. “You, taking a walk anywhere? That would be something to see, my husband. In the heat of the day, you would fall over from a heart attack. Do not be so foolish, and you may live to be an old man.”  
Hannibal and Miranda exchanged smiles, but they kept their thoughts to themselves as they headed towards town.  
Driving in to Red Rock with the MacCreedy’s was proving to be quite an experience for Heyes and Miranda. Everyone in town knew them, and many of the citizens were interested in being on the big man’s good graces. He was rich and powerful, and he held sway over most things that had anything to do with business dealings taking place in town.  
Every person they passed sent the carriage a wave or a verbal greeting, and Mac lapped it up like the showman he enjoyed being. Heyes always felt a little uncomfortable with this amount of recognition and acknowledgement. The last time he’d had such an audience of people starting at him, was during his arrest and subsequent trial, and he took no pleasure in being reminded of those days.  
Miranda was smiling with delight at being treated like royalty. The memories that this type of attention brought back to her were pleasant ones. Being the young and beautiful wife of one of the most successful business men in the West had many advantages and perks. Being married to an ex-outlaw had also brought her attention, but not always of the desired kind. This open and friendly greeting that she was party to now, were making her day.  
“Pull over at the telegraph office!” Mac bellowed up to their driver. “We have important business to take care of first thing.”  
“Yessir, Mr. McCreedy.”  
The team of flashy chestnuts was maneuvered over to the other side of the street and brought to a halt outside the specified office.  
“No reason for all of us to go in,” Heyes commented, as he stood up to exit the carriage. “I’ll send the telegram and be right back out.”  
“Fine, fine,” Mac agreed. “But don’t be all day about it. It’s hot out here!”  
Heyes sent him a mirthless smile. Mac did often have the tendency to state the obvious. So much for a walk around town.   
Once inside the office, Heyes had to admit that it felt refreshingly cool, so perhaps Mac had a point. He smiled at the telegrapher, and that man came over, already armed with paper and pencil, and an ingratiating smile. He knew that this man was a guest out at the McCreedy place, and word had already made it around town as to his true identity.  
“How can I help you?” he asked his customer, wanting nothing more than to please.  
“Well, I’d like to send a telegram,” Heyes answered. “That is what you do here, isn’t it?”  
“Oh, yes sir,” the telegrapher responded, and nervously rubbed his handlebar moustache, hoping that he had not offended. “Where would you like to send it?”  
“Brookswood, Colorado,” Heyes informed him. “To Mr. J. Curry.”  
“Oh!” he perked up. “Yes, of course.” He wetted the tip of his pencil on his tongue and began writing the address. “And what would you like to say?”  
“Well,” Heyes considered. “Umm, ‘No telephone here. Why? Heading home Tuesday.’ And just sign it, HH.”  
“Very good sir,” came the response, as the pencil finished scratching out its message. “I’ll send that right away.”  
“Thank you, yes. It is urgent. And ah, we’ll be in town most of the day, with the McCreedy’s, so I would appreciate letting me know as soon as a response comes in.”  
“Of course, sir.”  
“Thank you.”  
Heyes exited the office, then cursed when he found himself staring at an empty space where the horses and carriage should have been. He groaned and scanned the wide roadway, until he spotted the large vehicle waiting quietly in front of the café. He stepped down off the boardwalk and headed over to meet up with the driver, Mike, who was standing at the horses’ heads, and letting them have a drink.  
“Are they inside?” Heyes asked him as he approached.  
“Yes,” Mike confirmed. “Apparently it was getting too warm for the ladies.”  
“Ah.”  
Heyes continued on by and entered the café. He didn’t know what they were planning on doing here, as they had just finished breakfast, but it was admittedly cooler indoors than it was outside. He spotted his group over by a window table and headed over to join them.  
Miranda smiled as she spotted him coming their way.  
“Oh, good. You found us.”  
“Kind of hard to miss that carriage,” Heyes pointed out. “Are you feeling alright?”  
“Yes,” Miranda assured him. “It was just getting too hot.”  
“This heat can be difficult for those who are not born to it,” Carlotta reminded them. “and being in the family way will only make it more so.”  
Mac coughed. “No need to go into particulars, my dear,” he rumbled. “Talking about such things at home is one thing, but we’re out in public now.”  
The younger couple exchanged smiles at Mac’s obvious discomfort. Carlotta rolled her eyes.  
“Oh, you American men,” she complained. “You don’t hesitate to spend time in the brothel, but one mention of a woman expecting, sends you all running for cover. I could never understand such silliness. And I am a catholic woman who has been told since girlhood that it is a shameful thing. That a woman in the family way should hide herself away for fear of men seeing her in such a state. I never could understand that. Nonsense!”  
“Please, my dear, keep your voice down,” Mac whispered loudly. “You can be heard as far as the mercantile. Some things should be kept private, that’s all.”  
Carlotta laughed. “That is a fine thing; you accusing me of being loud. You should listen to yourself, my husband. You rattle the rafters when you are outside.”  
Mac harrumphed, but made no comment.  
Miranda’s brow cocked with amusement and took the conversation back to its original point.  
“So, you think that a young woman must keep to her confinement, simply because she is expecting?” she asked a mortified Big Mac. “That she should hide herself away in shame? What has she got to be ashamed about?”  
Carlotta smiled and looked to her husband to await his response. Heyes sat back to watch, but chose not to get involved with this one; he knew when his wife was on a roll.  
“Well,” Mac blustered. “How should I know? It’s just the way it’s done. I mean, seeing a woman…in that condition…I mean, it makes it obvious, doesn’t it?”  
“Makes what obvious?” Miranda persisted.  
“Well, that…that she’s had…”  
Miranda leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Intercourse with her husband?”  
Mac looked around him for fear that the roof was going to cave in upon his head. “Shhh!” he insisted. “Smith! Do something about your wife!”  
Heyes smiled in surprise, then shrugged. “Like what?”  
“I don’t know! She’s your wife, dagnabbit. Can’t you control her?”  
Heyes chuckled at the first humorous thing he’d heard that day. “Nope,” he stated. “I enjoyed helping her to get into the condition she is in now. I start telling her what she can do or say, and she might not let me try again.”  
Mac flustered. “Dammit! You young people are full of cheek. Why, in my day, a man never spoke about his wife like that—and certainly not in public!”  
“Oh Mac, relax,” Heyes told him. “Besides, you’ve known all along that I’m cheeky.”  
“I thought prison would have beaten it out of you!” he yelled, causing other patrons in the establishment to glance over at them.  
“Thank goodness, it didn’t,” Miranda commented as she gave her husband an affectionate squeeze on his arm. “He’s so much more fun just the way he is.”  
Heyes grinned appreciatively, just as the waitress joined them with the ordered tea. She caught the flash of manly pleasure and felt a rush of her own.  
“Good morning, Mr. McCreedy, Mrs. McCreedy,” the young waitress greeted the local gentry. Those necessitates done, her eyes were then drawn irretrievably to the handsome face of their male visitor, and she smiled shyly. Miranda’s brows went up in an expression of unsurprised humor.   
Carlotta felt slight irritation at the girl’s distraction and attempted to draw her back to her duties.  
“Good morning, Senorita Suzanna,” the matriarch returned the greeting, and her frown deepened when the young woman’s gaze did not leave the all-encompassing eyes that it was already fixed upon. She glanced at Miranda to seek a clue from the wife, as to how to respond to this apparent affront. Miranda smiled at her, and Carlotta caught the amused glint in her eye, indicating that the situation was normal.  
This scenario was not a new one for Miranda. Her husband had that effect on many people, and not just young women. She had seen it over and over again; one look or word from him could distract a person into making mistakes, or missing a significant point. She ventured that this was one of the reason why he’d been such a successful con man. One look into those dark brown eyes, and logical thought would slip away.  
She smiled now at the effect he had on people, but she remembered a time, not so long ago, when she was jealous and intimidated by the ability. Especially his ability to seduce a young woman with just a look.   
She knew now that on most occasions, he was not being deliberately flirtatious. His attempts to console or support a young lady in distress, simply had that effect. She knew that it was harmless. Her husband was not disrespecting her, and the responses from the young ladies were usually innocent enough. This knowledge gave Miranda the freedom now to sit back and simply enjoy the show. Most humorous to her, was watching Hannibal trying to back out of a situation that his unconscious charisma had sucked him into.   
Now was no exception.  
Heyes smiled back at the girl, which caused the young thing to blush, as her heart did a violent flip flop, causing her to catch her breath over her own emotion. She had yet to acknowledge Mrs. Heyes, and nor was she paying any attention to the tea that she was pouring from the pot.  
Mr. Heyes, who had become more aware of his effect on young ladies, ever since his wife had so adamantly pointed it out to him, had learned to be watchful of misadventure. He deliberately took his puppy dog eyes away from Suzanne and glanced nervously at his cup, where the tea was coming dangerously close to the brim.  
“Ah, you might want to watch…”  
“Oh!” Suzanne glanced down at the cup, just as the hot liquid began to spill over. “Oh no! I’m so sorry!”   
Heyes nimbly jumped up and got out of the way, just as tea spilled out and dribbled off the table.  
Miranda had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing out loud, while Carlotta again took her cue from the younger woman, and held her tongue. Mac, on the other hand was becoming more and more exasperated at, not only the waitress’ clumsiness, but at her total disregard for his presence. He wasn’t used to being ignored, even if the object of her distraction was Hannibal Heyes, himself.  
“Oh dear,” Suzanne continued, in her mortification. Taking the towel, she had draped over her arm, she quickly began sopping up the mess. The tea pot in her other hand tipped, and more hot tea made its way onto the table.  
Mac had finally had enough, and his heavy hand came banging down onto the table, rattling the tea cups, and the waitress’ nerves.  
“Watch what you are doing!” He bellowed. “What good is a waitress who can’t even pour a cup of tea?”  
Suzanne turned red, and her shaking hands became even more frantic in trying to clean up the mess. “I’m so sorry, Mr. McCreedy. I didn’t mean to. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me!”  
Carlotta’s brow went up. She was now understanding exactly what was wrong with her. With this understanding, she was finding the situation just as amusing as Miranda was.  
“It is alright,” Carlotta tried to assure the child. “It is just tea. It is not important.”  
“Not important!?” Mac exploded, as though it were a personal insult. “Why, I’ve fired people for showing this kind of incompetence!”  
Suzanne’s eyes widened in fear, and her lower lip began to quiver at the thought of possibly losing her job. She couldn’t afford to lose this job; her family needed her income.  
Heyes astutely noted the young lady’s distress, and knowing that it was being caused by him, even though unintentionally, he tried to smooth over the troubled waters.  
“Oh now, Uncle Mac,” he consoled. “That’s being a bit extreme, don’t you think? No harm done.”  
“Don’t you ‘Uncle Mac’ me!” Mac retorted. “I’m the only one who can use that card, not you! Besides, I was only referring to the Kid! You’re too damn cheeky to be a nephew of mine!”  
Heyes’ smile grew into a wide grin. “But Mac,” he teased. “You’re the one who’s always saying we’re family. And since the Kid is my cousin…”  
“Alright, alright!” Mac grumbled. “How did we get onto this? We were talking about this woman’s incompetency!”  
Suzanne tried to shrink down to the size of a mouse as these two imposing men argued over her fate. She continued to wipe down the table, even though the spilt tea had long since been cleaned up.  
Even though Miranda was still finding the whole situation humorous, Carlotta began to take pity on the waitress. Aside from that, she always looked forward to the opportunity to needle her husband.  
“Senor Smith is right,” she stated, and then smiled reassuringly at Suzanne. “Do not worry. My husband rumbles like an old bear, but he is easily distracted. You will not lose your job. I will make sure of it.”  
She sent Mac a meaningful look, and Mac snorted, but subsided, even though he continued to grumble his discontent.  
Heyes’ face once again broke out into a wide, dimpled grin at the sight of Big Mac McCreedy being so easily deterred by his wife. It always amazed him, the power a woman could have over her man, and he knew that he was just as susceptible to it as the rancher was. Knowing it, however, never seemed to give him much defense against it.  
Suzanne, though still trying to staunch silent tears as she continued to wipe the table, now sniffed and smiled at Carlotta. She was still too embarrassed and intimidated by the two men to now look either one of them in the eye.   
“Thank you, Mrs. McCreedy,” she mumbled. “The tea is on the house.”  
“It’s on the table, not the house!” Mac snarked.  
Carlotta sighed with exasperation at her husband’s bull-headedness.  
Suzanne looked crushed, and the tears might have started again, if it wasn’t for Heyes saving the day. He touched her arm, and when she automatically looked at him, he smiled his warmest smile, and her expression instantly softened.   
“Thank you,” he said. “But we don’t mind paying for the tea. Perhaps you could bring us a fresh pot?”  
“Of course we mind paying for it!” Mac countered. “I don’t run a charity for inept waitresses—ouch!” He sent an accusing look to his wife, and Carlotta cocked a brow at him. She’d had enough of this.  
Suzanne chose the easier path, and with the ascertain that Mrs. McCreedy had her husband in check, she focused her attention on the more attractive gentleman at the table.  
“Yes,” she agreed, her wet eyes now sparkling with appreciation. “Yes, of course. I’ll be right back with a fresh pot.” And with that, she gathered up the teapot and damp towel and practically skipped off to the kitchen.  
Heyes went to sit down again, only to be brought up short with a new surprise. “Hmm, it seems she missed the tea on the chair.”  
“There! You see?” Mac pounced on the opportunity to be proven right. “Completely incompetent!”  
“You brought this on yourself, you know,” Heyes pointed out as he used his napkin to dry off his chair.  
“What do you mean?” Mac demanded. “What did I do?”  
Heyes sat down and sent the rancher an irritated look. “Suzanne has served both me and the Kid here before, and she has always been quite professional. Oddly enough, she always found the Kid to be more interesting than she did me, but aside from that, she never missed a beat. This is all because of you and that silly poker game, and setting up the situation where the whole town now knows who I am.”  
“What difference does that make?” All three of his companions sent Mac mildly incredulous looks. He shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny. “Well, I mean, you’re not outlaws anymore. You’re not on top anymore. You’re nobody—has beens. Why should anybody care?”  
“Gee, thanks Uncle Mac,” Heyes snarked at him. “You really know how to put people at their ease.”  
Mac snorted. He preferred to keep people on their toes, not at their ease. You got more work and less argument out of them, that way.  
“I wouldn’t put too much blame for this onto Suzanne,” Miranda told Mac. “I’m afraid my husband has that effect on many people, whether they know who he is or not. You, yourself took advantage of his ability to slip into a group and put everyone at their ease. He was able to weed out the snake in your grass, and trap him at his own game.”  
Mac smiled as he recognized the truth of this, and then he started to laugh.  
“You’re quite right!” he agreed. “You got yourself a good wife there, Smith. Yessir, a good wife!”  
Xxx  
Brookswood  
“Any response to my telegram, Clayt?” Jed asked the telegrapher, later on that morning.  
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Clayt told him. “It just came in half an hour ago. Do you want to answer it?”  
“Probably,” Jed told him. “but I think I ought’a read it first.”  
Clayt cocked a smile. “Yeah, probably.” He handed over the note and discreetly awaited Jed’s decision.   
Jed quickly gave the note a look over, and then quietly cursed. “Damn.”  
“What?”  
“There’s no telephone in Red Rock.”  
“I could’a told you that,” Clayt informed him. “It’s usually just the bigger cities that have those, and even then, they’re not always very reliable. Especially if it’s a couple of states away.”  
“Yeah, I suppose,” Jed grumbled, not doing a good job of hiding his disappointment. “I guess ya’ better send a reply.”  
Clayt smiled as he got pencil and paper ready. As far as he was concerned, the fewer telephones around, the better for him. At least his service would get the message through, fast and clear. Unless some unscrupulous person, or persons cut the line. Clayt had no regard for someone who could be so low as to disrupt communication. Present company excluded, of course.  
“Okay,” Jed began, as he thought about his response. “’Do you know Finney, Scotland Yard? Maybe job in Denver. Poker game.’ I guess that’ll have to do for now.”  
“Fine. I’ll send it right away.”  
“I’ll come back in an hour or so and see if there’s an answer.”  
Clayt nodded distractedly as he set about sending the message.

 

Xxx  
Red Rock  
The clicking of the telegraph caught the clerk’s attention and he hurried over to jot down the information that was coming across the wire. He cursed when he realized that he had missed the first few words, but, as usual when this happened, he simply took down what he did catch, and hope that it would not matter. Up to date, nothing untoward had occurred due to his lack of attention.  
Writing down the few sentences, he briefly left his office and standing just outside the door way, he scanned the street in both directions, looking for a likely candidate. He smiled when he spotted one and waved to get the lad’s attention.  
“Hey, Opie!”  
The lad looked up from his mischief making and grinned, knowing that he was in for a nickel, maybe more. He ran full tilt, bringing himself up to the telegrapher in seconds flat, and he waited with great anticipation for his instructions.  
“Here ya’ go,” the clerk said as he handed over the note. “Find Mr. McCreedy, and give him this. You’ll get your nickel when you get back here.”  
“Yessir!”  
“And you better deliver it too. Don’t just throw it away and then come back here wanting to get paid. I’ll be seeing Mr. McCreedy later today, and if he says that he didn’t get it, there’ll be hell to pay.”  
“I would never do that, Mr. Snodgrass,” Opie insisted. “That was Amos who done that.”  
“Yeah, well just see that ya’ don’t. Now skedaddle. I don’t pay ya’ to stand around jawing about it.”  
“Yessir!”  
Opie snatched the note and was gone at a gallop towards the café. He’d seen the McCreedys’ large expensive coach outside that establishment, and it didn’t take a young genius to figure out that this was where he was likely to find his target.  
Suzanne was heading back with a fresh pot of tea, when the front door of the café burst open, and a lad of about twelve nipped in and then stood there, looking around at the occupied tables. He spotted Mr. McCreedy in no time flat and made a dash for him. Not watching where he was going, the first thing he bumped into was Suzanne.   
With a startled cry, the waitress tried to stay on her feet and save the tea pot, but it was to no avail. Opie hit the young woman full on, and all those involved lost the fight with gravity and went crashing to the floor. The teapot hit hard and shattered, sending hot tea and leaves splattering across the boards.  
Started exclamations made the rounds of the establishment, and a number of gentlemen rose to come to the assistance of the young waitress.  
Suzanne herself, was mortified. This was not turning out to be her day, at all.   
“You clumsy boy!” she yelled as the contained tears from the previous embarrassment now took over her face. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going!”  
Opie hardly missed a beat. He was on his feet in an instant, and continued on his way to the big rancher, who was bellowing with laughter at the spectacle. He didn’t get far though. Heyes was on his feet, and as Opie tried to pass him to deliver the note, the adult grabbed the boy’s arm and swung him around.  
“Hey!” Opie complained. “I gotta deliver this!”  
“It can wait,” Heyes told him, as he pushed him back towards the scene of the disaster. “You caused this, so you can help clean it up.”  
“It’s not my fault,” Opie insisted. “I got a job to do!”  
“It was your fault,” Heyes corrected him. “And I’ll deliver the telegram. It’s probably for me, anyway.”  
“I gotta deliver it directly to Mr. McCreedy, or I won’t get paid,” Opie protested. “I ain’t got time for no stupid…”  
“You’ll make the time,” Heyes told him. “Now go get the mop, and help clean up that mess.”  
Opie was about to protest some more, but looking around, he found that the mood in the café was not in his favor. The other men, who had come over to assist, now all stood back, smiling, and allowing the opportunity for a lesson learned, to take place. Opie slumped and grumbled at the unfairness of his lot, but he stuffed the note into his pocket and dragged his feet over to the cook, who stood by the counter, holding out a mop, a bucket and a bag for the broken pot.  
Suzanne was still on her hands and knees, her skirt wet with spilt tea and her face wet with tears. She was carefully gathering up the broken pieces of ceramic, when Heyes took her elbow and helped her to her feet. She sniffed and whimpered and tried to wipe her eyes.  
“Thank you,” she managed to get out.  
“That’s alright,”  
“I’m so sorry. I’ll get you another pot.”  
“Don’t worry about it,” Heyes assured her. “We’ll probably be leaving soon, anyway.”  
Unfortunately, this was the wrong thing to say. Suzanne took it personally, and the subsiding tears now broke out afresh and she started babbling out more apologies.   
Heyes tried very hard not to laugh at the over-reaction, and though he did succeed on the most part, a big smile did manage to force its way onto his features. To cover it up, he took Suzanne into a hug and gave her some comfort.  
“You’re alright,” he assured her. “Now go on back, and get yourself cleaned up. It’s really not that big a deal, you know.”  
“Mr. McCreedy is going to have me fired,” she whispered through her sobs.  
“No, he isn’t,” Heyes insisted. “I won’t let him. Neither will his wife, whom, I suspect, as far more influence over him than I do.”  
She raised red rimmed eyes up to meet his gentle ones, and she managed a smile.  
“Thank you.”  
Heyes nodded. “Off you go.”  
Suzanne turned, and stepping around Opie, who was busy with his chore, she went into the back room to get herself re-organized.  
Heyes headed back to his table, accompanied by a small symphony of applause from the other patrons. He smiled, and with a showman’s flair, returned a slight bow to the group and then sat down with his own party. Even they were smiling at him.  
“I thought it was Jed who always came to the rescue of young, pretty ladies in distress,” Randa teased him.  
“She’s not all that pretty,” Heyes countered. “Besides, that lad needed to learn something about manners.”  
The two ladies exchanged a knowing look, while Mac laughed even louder than the first time.  
Heyes sighed. He wasn’t going to get out of this one.  
“She’s scared to death that you’re going to fire her,” he informed Mac. “I assured her that I wouldn’t let you.”  
“Oh, I’m not going to fire her,” Mac assured him. “She’s been far too entertaining.”  
“None of this was her fault,” Miranda pointed out. “Be nice to her.”  
“I am being nice to her!” Mac protested. “I just said, I wasn’t going to fire her!”  
“Perhaps you should suggest that she be given a raise,” Carlotta suggested. “Is not the owner doing very well in his business?”  
Mac snorted. “Not my affair.” Any more discussion on wages was preempted by the arrival of a more subdued Opie. Mac was grateful for the interruption. “Ah! I understand you have a telegram for me.”  
“Yessir,” Opie agreed while sending a resentful glance in Heyes’ direction. He pulled out the slightly soggy note, and handed it over.  
“Fine,” Mac said and took out his change pouch to give the boy a tip.  
“Ahh…” Heyes quietly protested.  
Opie ignored the opposition and so did Mac, as he handed the lad a nickel for his trouble. Opie smiled, and snatching his tip, he took off again, at full speed and disappeared out the door.  
“Mac,” Heyes pushed him.  
Mac waved him into silence and handed him the telegram. “It’s for you.”  
Heyes frowned, but took the note and opened it up. “Hmm.”  
“What is it?” Miranda asked.  
“Well,” Heyes nodded confirmation. “There is apparently a job waiting for us in Denver, and it has to do with that poker game. It seems I’m going to have to accept the invitation to play, after all. I wonder if the patron is paying for the buy-in.”  
“Who is the patron?” Mac asked.  
Heyes shrugged. “He doesn’t say. Probably not important.”  
“If you worked for me, you wouldn’t have to worry about incidentals like that.”  
Heyes sighed. “Mac…”  
“Yes, yes! Fine. Alright. I suppose you’ll be heading for Denver then.”  
“Yes,” Heyes confirmed. “I’ve already booked us on the Tuesday train. I suppose I should inform the Brown Palace that I’ll accept the invite after all. As long as it’s not too late. That game can fill up quickly.”  
“If they’re smart, they’ll make room for you,” Mac grumbled.  
Heyes grinned. “Gee, thanks Uncle Mac.”  
Xxx  
Brookswood  
“Anything?”  
“Yes,” Clayt confirmed. “You have two.”  
“Two?” Jed queried. “Both from Heyes?”  
“Nope,” Clayt corrected. “One from Heyes, and one from Laramie.”  
Jed brightened up. “Oh! Already? That was fast.”  
Clayt shrugged. “There’s nothing faster than a telegraph line. Don’t need no dang blasted telephones. Those contraptions just confuse the issue.”  
“You sure you ain’t got a bit of a prejudice there, Clayt?”  
“No! Just common sense!”  
Jed held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. No need to get snarky.”  
“Hmm,” Clayt grumbled as he handed over the two separate notes. “Let me know if you want to answer.”  
Jed nodded, and again, quickly read through the messages.  
He smiled after the first one; ‘Finney checks out. KR.’. Setting that one aside, he read through Heyes’ response and nodded his confirmation.  
“Okay, send one more telegram to Heyes.” Clayt was already set with his pencil at the ready. “’Meet you at Denver station.’ And I guess that’s it. I’m goin’ home. Thanks, Clayt.”  
“No problem. David know that you’re heading out ‘a town?”  
Jed stopped in his tracks and sent Clayt an annoyed look. “Do you have to know everything that happens in this town?”  
Clayt shrugged. “Goes with the territory, I suppose.”  
“Well, it ain’t none ‘a your business,” Jed told him. “but yes, he does know.”  
“Have a nice trip.”  
“I ain’t leavin’ yet!”  
Jed turned and stomped out of the office, grumbling to himself. Clayt smiled and went back to his duties. Sometimes it was too easy to get a rise out of Mr. Curry.  
Xxx  
Red Rock  
“So, you’re just going to pack up and leave, is that it?” Mac asked as Heyes set their luggage down by the courtyard door.  
“We’ve been here for almost a week,” Heyes pointed out. “You act like you want us to stay forever.”  
“I do!” Mac bellowed. A distant sound of a dish crashing onto the floor, made its way to the foyer. “I’ll pay ya’ fifteen thousand a year, dagnabbit!”  
“Nope, not interested.”  
“Why the hell not? It’s a good offer!”  
Heyes sighed and straightened up from setting down the last bag.  
“We’ve got more going on at home, than you know,” Heyes explained. “We’re setting up sort of a landing place for young fellas coming out of prison. You know, a place for them to come and find their footing, before trying to handle things are their own.”  
“What?” Mac cursed, putting on an incredulous act. “What the hell for? Once a thief, always a thief, you ain’t gonna change that.” Heyes sent him a pointed look. “Well, present company excepted. Maybe.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes griped. “Anyway, the Kid and I already have plans. And it’s a good one. It’s important. I’m not going to back out on it now.”  
“And just who do you have backin’ ya’ up on this?” Mac insisted on knowing. “Surely you and the Kid aren’t planning this little charade all on your own? Something like that takes money!”  
“We know that, Mac,” Heyes assured him. “We’re not doing it on our own. We have the warden, Ken Reece. Mr. Jordan out at the Double J. Steven is in on it, and Sheriff Jacobs. Not to mention some friends of mine, the Medgars. You’re not the only rich rancher in the country, Mac. We have backing.”  
Mac snorted. “They ain’t gonna be rich for long, throwing away their money on this nonsense.”  
“It’s not nonsense!” Heyes insisted. “If I hadn’t had Jesse Jordan giving me a job and a roof when I got out, I don’t know what I would have done. Probably would have gone back to flim flaming.” A distant look took over his expression, as his memories sent him back in time. “That, or I would have left the country altogether. Anyway, having a place to land, and people around you that are supportive, can make all the difference in the world. I figure it’s time I give something back.”  
“Fine, fine. Get all sentimental on me.” Mac grumbled. “You ain’t the same man you were when I first met you boys.”  
Heyes grinned appreciatively. “Thanks Mac!”  
Outside, Miranda and Carlotta waited for the coach to arrive from the stables. The two ladies embraced and said their goodbye’s  
“You must come to visit again,” Carlotta insisted. “And bring your children with you.”  
“We will,” Randa assured her. “I know Sally would absolutely love this place. She would like nothing better than to live on a ranch, surrounded by animals.”  
“Then you must bring her,” Carlotta emphasized. “And, I expect to hear from you, when your new one arrives. I want to know all about it.”  
“Yes, of course,” Miranda agreed.  
“Is that coach not here yet!” Mac complained, as he and Heyes stepped outside. “What the hell is the matter with Mike? I told him, 11:00 am, sharp!”  
“It is only ten to,” his wife pointed out. “And besides that, here he comes now. He is early.”  
“Oh yes,” Mac backed off. “Well, if you aren’t early, you’re late! I’ll have to have a word with him about his punctuality.”  
The two flashy chestnuts who had once again been pressed into service, now came to an impatient halt, bringing the coach up level with the waiting passengers. Mike set the brake and stepped down to help Heyes load up the luggage, and then the couple were set to depart.  
“Goodbye,” Randa said to Carlotta, and gave her another hug. “It was a lovely visit, and I will send word when I have it.”  
“Good. Safe journey.”  
“Well, Mac,” Heyes and the rancher shook hands. “If you want to send a donation to our new enterprise, it would be more than welcome.”  
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see how long it floats first. They’ll probably rob ya’ blind!”  
“Maybe,” Heyes said, then turned and gave Carlotta a kiss on the cheek. “It was good to see you again. I’m glad everything worked out.”  
“Of course,” Carlotta teased him. “Cannot have a Hannibal Heyes plan go array.”  
“A Hannibal Heyes plan?” Heyes queried, innocently.  
Carlotta just smiled. “Goodbye, Senor Smith. I will consider your mare, but I do not make any promises.”  
“Good enough,” Heyes agreed.  
He then turned to help his wife step into the open carriage, and nodded a final farewell to their hosts. “Goodbye.”  
Miranda settled herself and waved. “It was lovely to meet you, Uncle Mac. I must say, you are everything that my husband said you were. Completely unforgettable!”  
“I wouldn’t have it any other way!” Mac insisted. “Now, be gone with you! I have things to get done here!”  
With final waves, and goodbye’s, Mike set the team in motion, and the coach and team headed down the stone inlaid drive on its way towards town.  
Xxx  
“Oh,” Miranda breathed as they settled into their seats inside their private roomette. “It was a lovely visit, but I am ready to go home.”  
“Yes, me too,” Heyes agreed. “Mac can be exhausting.”  
Miranda laughed. “The two of you together can be exhausting! I think you feed off of each other.”  
Heyes nodded his understanding, then frowned a little, at his wife’s obvious fatigue. “You don’t have to stay over in Denver, you know,” he told her. “I have no idea how long this job is going to last. And it might be boring for you anyway. If you want to carry on home ahead of me, that’ll be fine.”  
“We’ll see,” Miranda told him. “By the time we get to Denver, I might just be ready for a few nights in a bed that doesn’t move. It would be nice to visit with Bridget while you’re off playing your game. She and I rarely get the chance to visit, just the two of us.”  
“That might be nice,” Heyes agreed. “I’m sure she’d be glad to have you. She can fill you in on all the happenings at home, while we’ve been away. I’m sure Harry’s wedding will be on the top of the list.”  
“I’m sure,” Randa concurred. “I hope it all went well.”  
“I think we would have heard about it, if it hadn’t,” Heyes reasoned. “They’re probably off, enjoying their honeymoon, and the town, at least the bachelor members, are all breathing a sigh of relief.”  
The whistle up front, blew out its warning and within seconds, the car gave a little jerk, and they were on the move. Heyes settled back, with a smile on his face. He was looking forward to getting home, too.

To be continued.


	17. Honeymoon's Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Miranda arrive back in Denver, only to be met with the sad news of the events back home.

Honeymoon’s Over

Jed Curry stepped off the passenger car at the now very familiar train station in Denver and casually looked around for the confirmed Scotland Yard man. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t spot him, as it was late. It was actually a relief, since all Jed really wanted to do was get a light meal at the saloon that he knew offered such fair after the café was closed, and then get to bed. He hoisted his one piece of luggage into a more comfortable position and made his way, along with the few passengers who were disembarking here, through the depot and then out to the street.  
Finney had informed him that the Yard would be covering his and his partner’s stay in Denver until after the poker game. Jed wouldn’t be staying at the Brown Palace, of course; that would be too much to expect, but he knew the hotel that had been chosen, and he was satisfied enough with that. He now headed towards that hotel to get signed in for his stay and prepare to meet up with Heyes on the following day. His partner and Miranda were due to arrive on the morning train, and Jed was looking forward to seeing them again.   
The lobby was quiet, with only the night clerk present to attend to their guest. He had been asleep, but having done the night shift for many years, his inner clock had awakened him in time for the train from Brookswood. Even if there were no guests on the books, the night train often brought people to the big city, unannounced and looking for a hotel, and the clerk had to be ready to attend to them.  
Seeing that Mr. Curry was expected that night, gave the clerk even more incentive to be up and alert in order to receive him. Once the initial anxiety of having the infamous gunman staying at their hotel, had worn off, Mr. Curry and his partner were generally very accommodating guests, and tended to tip well. With that fact in mind, Jed was met with a large and friendly smile as soon as he entered the lobby.  
“Ah, Mr. Curry. Welcome. Your room is ready for you.”  
“Yeah, thanks,” Jed answered as he signed the ledger. “Ah, I’m meeting a friend here. A Mr. Finney. Has he checked in yet?”  
“Indeed. Though I expect he is asleep now.”  
“I expect he is, too,” Jed agreed. “I intend to be as well, just as soon as I get myself somethin’ ta’ eat. I’m sure I’ll be meeting my friend for breakfast.”  
“Of course,” the clerk condescended, as he handed Jed the key to his room. “Have a good night, sir.”  
Jed nodded as he took the key and then carried his own luggage up the stairs and to his room.  
He’d barely had time to throw his bag on the bed, when a soft rapping at the door brought his colt into his hand. He stepped out of the direct line of fire and cautiously approached the wooden barrier.  
“Who is it?” he enquired quietly.  
“T’is I, Finney.”  
Jed went to the door and opened it, just a crack. He relaxed and slipped his gun back into his holster as he opened the door wider to allow the Scotland Yard man to enter.  
“Ah, cautious, I see.” Finney observed, with a smile. “Very wise.”  
“Hmm,” Jed nodded. “Old habits.”  
“Good to have.”  
“I didn’t expect to see you until the morning—or at least, later in the morning.”  
“I felt it necessary for us to connect privately, first,” Finney explained. “To make sure all is going as planned.”  
“It is, as far as I know,” Jed told him. “I let the clerk know that you and I are friends, so people won’t wonder why we’ve hooked up. It’ll also give ya’ reason ta’ talk to Heyes, once he gets here. If you’re a friend of mine, then it ain’t too much of a stretch for people to assume that you’re a friend a’ his, as well.”  
“Yes, my thoughts exactly.”  
“Will you be staying at the Brown Palace, once the game gets going?”  
“Oh, good gracious, no,” Finney informed him. “That would not do at all. We must carry on the pretense that you and I are good friends and have planned to meet here, and enjoy some casual poker and other such games of chance, while Mr. Heyes works his magic. He is booked in there, as are all the players. It must be assumed that anyone who can afford the buy in, can afford a room or even a suite at the Palace. But you and I, Mr. Curry, are simply observers in this little play. We must not appear to be too interested in the main event.”  
“That makes sense,” Jed agreed. “On that note, shall we all meet up later, for breakfast? Heyes and Miranda are due in on the morning train. If we’re all going to be friends, we’ll need to carry on as such.”  
“Indeed,” Finney agreed. “In fact, I am greatly looking forward to meeting Mr. Heyes. I have reason to believe that we may already be acquainted.” He smiled, and offered his hand for shaking. “Goodnight, Mr. Curry.”  
“Yeah.” Curry shook the offered hand, but an anxious frown had taken over his features at the detective’s casual remark.  
Was he setting Heyes up to walk into a trap, after all? Just because Finney had checked out, that didn’t necessarily mean that he was on the up and up. Mitchel had been an official and so had Carson, and yet both of those men had caused Heyes no end of trouble. Did Finney have an old grudge to settle? Should he warn Heyes off? But he had informed Heyes of the identity of their patron, and Heyes apparently hadn’t been concerned enough about it to comment.  
Maybe Heyes didn’t remember him. Or maybe Finney is mistaken, and he is not acquainted with the ex-outlaw leader. Jed figured that if Finney had come up against Hannibal Heyes in the past, then he would know it for sure, and not just suspect the acquaintance.  
“Ohm,” Jed groaned as he shook his head to dislodge the negative thoughts.  
It was late, and he was tired. Deciding to forgo a meal at this hour, he locked the door to his room and settled in for what was left of the night.  
Xxx  
Now it was Hannibal’s turn to sit quietly and covertly gaze upon his wife. After spending days on board the train, both of them, once again, were travel weary. Their last night of sleeping on what was beginning to feel like a salt shaker, had been a restless one for both of them. Now, talked out and tired, they sat facing one another, watching the familiar scenery flow past while their own private thoughts took over from conversation.  
‘She’s so beautiful,’ Heyes thought, as his eyes gently caressed her curves. ‘How did a beaten down ex-outlaw like me, win such a lady?’ Heyes’ soft, admiring smile spread into a self-conscious grin when Miranda sighed and brought her thoughts back to the present. She glanced over at her husband and cocked an eyebrow.  
“What are you thinking about?” she asked him, playfully.  
He always felt a little stressed, when she asked him that question. His thoughts were for himself, but now, put on the spot, he had to come up with a generic answer that would satisfy his wife, but allow him to keep his musings private.  
“You’re glowing,” he said. “You look lovely.”  
Randa snorted. “Glowing! I feel like all I want to do is slip into a warm bath and soak the day, and the grime, away.”  
“You look nice to me, either way.”  
“I certainly hope that Bridget doesn’t mind me visiting, while you’re busy. It sounds silly, but I really don’t want to face those last few hours to get home. Not yet. Especially by myself.”  
“I’m sure she won’t mind,” Heyes told her.   
A gentle rapping sounded on the door of their roomette, followed by the anticipated announcement. “Denver City, folks. Twenty minutes.”  
The couple smiled at each other.  
“Finally!” Miranda sighed.  
“Thank you!” Heyes called out to the steward. “Well,” he continued. “I guess we better get organized. Honeymoon’s over.”  
Xxx  
The platform was busy as the Heyes’ stepped down off the steps of the passenger car. People were rushing about, looking for arriving friends, or seeking out luggage and arranging rides. It seemed that nothing coherent could be heard in all the calling and greetings, not to mention the constant idle chugging of the engine, and hissing of releasing steam. Yet, knowing a voice so well, that it could be picked up in amongst the hubbub of this busy station, came in handy for an easy connection. Heyes was just giving his hand to his wife, as she carefully stepped down, when he heard the familiar voice amongst the chorus of other joyful greetings.   
“Heyes!”  
Heyes’ grin took over his face before he’d even turned around. His eyes instantly zeroed in upon his partner, and the two men fell into an affectionate, back-slapping man hug.  
“Hey, Kid! It sure is good to see ya’!”  
“Yeah, you too, Heyes. How was your trip?”  
“Good! Especially once we got out of Yuma.”  
“Uh huh. That’ll teach ya’. Howdy Miranda,” Jed gave her a big, little boy smile and moved in for a hug. “I hope you had a good time, too.”  
“Yes,” she affirmed, all smiles and sparkle. “Santa Marta is beautiful. And Mr. McCreedy’s ranch is very impressive.”  
“Uh huh,” Jed nodded. “Just like the man himself, I bet.”  
Miranda laughed. “Yes!”  
While this reunion between Jed and Miranda took place, Heyes had time to take note of the small, unassuming man who was lingering on the outskirts of this greeting party. Both men smiled in recognition.  
“Mr. Finney,” Heyes greeted him in a tone of agreeable resignation. He’d always had a feeling that they would meet up again, one day. The two men shook hands.  
“Aye,” Finney concurred. “T’is a pleasure to meet you, Mister—Smith?”  
Heyes laughed. Jed and Miranda separated, and both stood back to watch this unexpected reunion.  
“You know him?” Jed asked his partner.  
“Yeah,” Heyes told him. “You remember; he was part of that expedition into Devil’s Hole, way back, when we were going for our amnesty.”  
Jed looked blank. “What expedition?”  
“You know, the one with the archaeologist,” Heyes elaborated. “That group who were looking for those tall, red-headed Indians.”  
“Oh.” Jed’s face fell in recollection. “Ya’ mean the one where I drove a wagon load of explosives up to that mine, nearly got blowed up at least five times, and came back all bruised and bloody.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “That’s the one.”  
“I also recall that you never got paid for that job, either.”  
“See? Ya’ do remember.”  
“Yeah, but you never told me about knowin’ Mr. Finney.”  
“Sure I did,” Heyes insisted. “I told ya’ all about how Mr. Alexander had planned his own murder by killing someone else who looked close enough to him, to make it work. But then he ended up getting killed himself, anyway. Mr. Finney here, had tracked him all the way from England, hoping to find out where Alexander had stashed the stolen gems.”  
“Yeah, ya’ told me all about that, Heyes,” Jed agreed. “But ya’ never told me the detective’s name.”  
“Sure I did.”  
“No. Ya’ didn’t.”  
“I didn’t?” Heyes frowned. “You sure?”  
“Yeah, Heyes. I’m sure.”  
“Oh. Well. This is him.”  
Jed looked like he was about to brain his partner over the head. “Ya could’a told me that you knew him, ya’ know. It would’a made things a lot easier.”  
“I didn’t know that you knew him,” Heyes protested. “I didn’t even know he was here.”  
“I told ya’ he was.”  
“No ya’ didn’t.”  
“I did!”  
“When?”  
“In the telegram.”  
“Which one?”  
“The last one I sent ya’! The one tellin’ ya’ about the job!”  
“I think I would have remembered that.”  
“Heyes!!”  
Miranda laughed at the look that Finney was sending back and forth, between the two men. She touched him on the arm, and leaned in conspiratorially.   
“Don’t worry, Mr. Finney,” she assured him. “This is just their way of showing how much they missed one another.”  
“Ahh!” Finney nodded with understanding. “Male bonding.”  
Both Heyes and Curry stopped their argument and sent an insulted look over to the Yard man, but before they had a chance to contradict this statement, they were pleasantly interrupted.   
“Hannibal, Miranda!”  
“Oh, Bridget!” Miranda waved to her. “How good to see you.”  
Bridget hurried over to the group and gave Miranda a hug.  
“Welcome back,” she greeted them. “I hope you have a lovely time.” And she switched from hugging Miranda, to hugging Hannibal. “You must tell me all about it. How was Santa Marta? Is the Alcalde as handsome and charming as Clementine insists? How was San Francisco? I can’t wait to hear all the details.”  
“If you’re free to visit while Hannibal is busy, then I can tell you all about it,” Miranda informed her, and she sent her friend a mischievous smile.  
“Of course! There is so much to tell you,” Bridget insisted. “Steven is so busy, getting caught up with his work that he has no time for me, these days. It’ll be lovely to have company.”  
“We’re about to get some breakfast,” Jed intervened. “Would you like to join us?”  
“Oh, thank you, Jed,” Bridget said. “But I can’t. I have errands to run in town, and then I must get home to the girls. I missed them so much. But, if you haven’t eaten yet, why don’t you all come over to our place for brunch? It would be lovely to visit.” Then her eyes fixed upon the stranger in the group, and she smiled, warmly. “Hello.”  
Finney smiled and bowed slightly.  
Heyes quickly took control.  
“It seems I have been remiss,” he acknowledged. “My apologizes. Mr. Finney, this is my wife, Miranda.”  
“Ah yes,” Finney accepted her hand and nodded. “A brave woman, you are, Mrs. Heyes.”  
Miranda smiled. “Please, call me Miranda, or Randa, or Randi…”  
Finney smiled. “A fine match for your husband. You seem to share a preference for many names.”  
“Yes!” Miranda laughed. “I had noticed that.”  
“And this young lady,” Heyes intervened, and directed Finney’s attention away from his wife. “Is Bridget Granger. She’s an old friend, and married to the best criminal lawyer in Denver.”  
“Indeed?” Finney asked, his soft Irish lilt making everything he said sound friendly and inviting. “He must be a very busy man.”  
“Yes, he is,” Bridget agreed. “Especially since we have been away from home for much longer than intended. So much has happened since you left, Hannibal. It’s been so difficult.”  
“That fire must have been devastating,” Randa agreed. “I’m sure it has been difficult...”  
“So much more has happened, besides that,” Bridget continued. “If it’s not one thing, its…”  
“Ah,” Jed cut her off with a touch on her arm. “Let’s leave the details until later. I expect Heyes and Randa are tired.”  
“What else has been difficult?” Randa asked, suddenly concerned. “Is Sally alright?”  
“Oh yes!” Bridget assured her. “She’s fine now. But it sure put a scare into her.”  
“What put a scare into her?” Randa pushed. “What happened?”  
“Nothin’ happened,” Jed cut in. “And here ain’t the place to discuss it.”  
“Oh dear,” Bridget agreed, sheepishly. “You’re right, Jed. A train platform is not the place at all. Brunch then? In about two hours? I’m sure Steven will put in an appearance for food. And you as well, Mr. Finney,” she included the soft spoken Yard man. “We have much to talk about, and it’s far more comfortable in our parlor, than in some crowded café.”  
Her hopeful expression caused everyone to smile, and if there had been any assumption of declining the invitation, it was immediately terminated.   
Bridget smiled with the unanimous acceptance, then whirled away and was soon gone from sight.  
Jed gave an audible sigh of distress. He was hungry, but he also had to admit, that the Granger’s parlor and Sylvie’s home cooking would be much preferable over the local café.   
Heyes frowned.  
“What news is she talking about?” he asked.  
“Not now, Heyes,” Jed told him. “It’ll wait.”  
“What will wait?”  
“Is Sally alright?” Miranda asked again.  
“Yes, Sally is fine,” Jed assured her. “But I should warn ya’, you probably have yourselves a dog.”  
“A dog?” asked Heyes.  
Jed grinned as he slapped an arm across his partner’s shoulder, as the party left the platform. “Some news is best discussed sittin’ down, and after a good meal.”  
“Fine,” Heyes conceded. “But we better get booked into a hotel first. Where are you staying?”  
“You already have a room at the Brown Palace,” Finney informed Heyes.  
“Oh.” Heyes wasn’t sure about that. “Is that necessary? I mean, a room at the Palace…”  
“Aye,” Finney insisted. “Those who are booked into the game are expected to stay at the hotel. You two go ahead, and get settled. An invitation to your friend’s home is, perhaps, fortuitous. We do need to discuss things—privately.”  
“Yes, we do,” Heyes said, pointedly, then sighed with some resignation. “Alright. We’ll get booked in at the Palace. We’ll meet you at Bridget’s place in two hours.”  
“Yeah, Heyes,” Kid concurred. “You’re getting the whole treatment here. We’ll see ya’ over at there. But don’t be late, okay? I’m hungry.”  
Xxx  
Hannibal and Miranda stepped in to the lobby of the Brown Palace, and again stopped in awe at the opulent beauty of the edifice.  
“Oh my,” Miranda breathed. “When we were away, it seemed like we were gone for months. Now that we’re standing here again, I would swear we were just here yesterday.”  
“Hmm, I know,” Heyes agreed. “I certainly didn’t expect to be staying here again. I hope the Yard is paying for all this.”  
“I’m sure Mr. Finney will go over that with you,” Randa commented, though her tone sounded concerned. “They wouldn’t insist that you stay in such an expensive hotel, without at least contributing to the cost, would they?”  
Heyes shrugged. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past some of these officials.”  
“You skeptic,” Miranda teased him. “Let’s get booked in, and see what happens.”  
The couple approached the front desk, and the clerk was quick to come to their assistance.  
“Have you a reservation, sir?”  
“Yes, I believe so,” Heyes concurred. “Hannibal Heyes. I’m here for the poker game.”  
“Oh, indeed!” the clerk smiled. “I apologize for not recognizing you from your previous visit. You were so late in responding; we were beginning to think that you weren’t going to join us. In fact, you almost missed the opportunity.”   
“Oh?” Heyes asked. “There’s a deadline?”  
“There certainly is,” the clerk informed him. “And the game filled up very quickly this year. Probably because it’s the first year that we are holding it here, at the Palace. A much more fitting location for such a prestigious event, don’t you agree?”  
“Of course,” Heyes agreed. “So, I was almost shut out, was I?”  
“Oh, not almost, sir. You were,” the clerk continued. “But fortunately for you, we had a couple of cancellations just before I received you telegram. Very good timing, sir.”  
Heyes smiled, wondering if it was good timing, or other forces at work. “My good fortune.”  
“Indeed.” The clerk smiled pleasantly. “And of course, we would appreciate it, if you would submit your buy in, as soon as possible.”  
Heyes’ smile shifted to almost dangerous. “Submit my buy in?” he asked. “To whom?”  
“Why, the management, of course,” the clerk responded, though his pleasant smile had disappeared and was replaced with a nervous one.  
“You expect me to hand over $20,000 to the hotel management?” Heyes reiterated with a hint of incredulity.  
“Yessir,” the clerk answered, and then swallowed. “It is custom, sir. It guarantees you a spot in the game, and ensures the management that you are serious about attending. It’s perfectly safe, sir. No one since…well…” another nervous swallow, “well…since you, has been able to crack this safe. And there is a guard on it, twenty-four-seven.”  
“I don’t see a guard on it now,” Heyes observed.  
“He’s on his coffee break.”   
Heyes felt Miranda stifling a laugh, and then he had a hard time not joining her. The clerk visibly relaxed as he realized that the notorious ex-outlaw was finding humor in the situation.  
“You need not do it right away, sir,” he added. “We realize that you may need to manage your funds. But if you could do it within the next few days, it would be appreciated.”  
Heyes nodded. “Fine. I’ll look into it.”  
“Very good, sir.” The clerk then motioned to the porter and that man instantly put in an appearance. “Escort these guest to room 210. Mr. Heyes is here for the game.”  
“Oh!” came the response. “Yes indeed. Right this way sir, madam.”  
Once up in the privacy of their room, Heyes sat down on the bed and laughed.  
“That was close,” he stated. “I’ll have to talk to Finney about this. I don’t have twenty grand at my fingertips. I hope he has a back-up plan.”  
Miranda came over to sit on her husband’s knee. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.  
“I have a feeling,” she whispered in his ear. “that Mr. Finney is a very capable man.”  
Heyes grinned. “You are sooo right.”  
Xxx  
“Oh dear,” Miranda complained as she tried to button up her skirt. She stood in front of the full length mirror, and frowned at the reflection coming back at her.  
“What’s the matter?” her husband asked from his positon at the water basin, where he was shaving.  
“I’ve been wearing that light Mexican skirt for so long now, I hadn’t noticed.”  
“Noticed what?”  
Miranda tugged once again at the unyielding material. “I can’t seem to get these last two buttons done up.”   
Heyes stopped shaving and looked over in her direction. She looked the same to him, but the material of her skirt did appear to be a little tight across her buttocks. He smiled with appreciation.  
Miranda tried one more time, then gave up in disgust. “What am I going to do? I don’t want to wear my travelling outfit to lunch. It needs laundering. And it’s too chilly here for the summer skirt. I never thought that my clothing wasn’t going to fit me by the time we got home.” Her shoulders slumped with disappointment. “Ohh, and I was so looking forward to wearing the dress I got in San Francisco. It was snug fitting then, so I’m certainly not going to fit into it now. Oh dear.”  
Heyes smiled at his wife’s distress over a matter that could so easily be remedied.   
“We still have time,” he said, as he went back to his shaving. “Put on your travelling dress again, just for now, and we’ll go out and buy you a new outfit. Actually, probably two. One for casual, and one for the more formal dinners we’ll probably be attending while here.”  
“I suppose there’s nothing else for it,” Miranda sighed. “I’m going to need a whole new wardrobe.”  
“I wouldn’t get too carried away,” Heyes cautioned. “If Bridget still has her confinement wardrobe, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind passing them on to you. Beth probably has some as well. We’ll be fine.”  
“Oh,” Miranda looked relieved. “As long as they won’t mind.”  
“I doubt it. It makes no sense to buy a bunch of new stuff that you’re only going to wear for a short time. Confinement clothes and baby clothes all get passed around among families here.”  
Miranda smiled. “Yes, that is more practical. And, as I recall, Beth had some lovely dresses.”  
“Yep.” Heyes wiped the excess shaving cream off his face and began to get dressed in some clean clothes himself. “There’s some nice clothing stores right here, in the hotel. We can go there.”  
“Those will be awfully expensive,” Miranda commented, practically. “Why don’t we just go to one of the little shops on Main Street?”  
“Because, I’m here for the Biggest Game in the West,” her husband pointed out. “And I’m supposed to be a wealthy gambling man, despite my nefarious past. Or, perhaps, because of it. It’ll be good for my cover for us to be seen shopping in the more prestigious shops.”  
Miranda sparkled. “I like your reasoning, sir,” she told him, as she slipped into her previous garments. “Shall we go?”  
“Yes, we shall.”  
Xxx  
Brunch was a huge success, and not only because everyone was hungry. As much as they had both moved on to new lives, Hannibal and Jed had missed each other more than either of them was willing to admit. Now that they were again in one another’s company, and relaxing in a safe and comfortable environment, their banter, back and forth was lively and light hearted.   
Finney sat back and quietly watched this exchange with humorous interest. For two prolific outlaws, whose notoriety had reached as far as Scotland Yard, they came across now as friendly and honest citizens. No wonder it had taken the law so long to finally catch up with them. They did not represent the typical, hardened criminals that most people tended to think of, when talking about the outlaws of the West.  
On the other hand, Finney mused as the conversation swirled on around him, he knew from personal experience, that Heyes could turn hard and cold in an instant. He was not afraid to take control and make things happen the way he wanted them to. He also was not afraid to use a gun. This, and Heyes’ unconcerned attitude towards the outlaws in Devil’s Hole were what had made the detective suspicious of the man’s true identity in the first place.  
Their guide had been far too familiar with the Devil’s Hole area, and with the gang that lived there, for Finney not to question his connections to them. But Finney had been on another case then, and he had learned not to get distracted. When you allow yourself to run after more than one rabbit at a time, both will end up in the bush instead of the pot. Although, in this case, it had been an easy choice to make. Mr. Finney had found himself beginning to like their guide, and that was not conducive to bringing down a criminal. Aye, it was a good thing that he had his focus elsewhere at that time. A good thing, indeed.  
Now, he simply listening with interest, as these two men re-connected after their extended separation.  
“How is ole’ Silky doing?” Jed asked. “Still as cantankerous as ever?”  
Heyes snorted. “That old coot. He was downright nasty to me, when we first got there. I thought he was still angry over the Philpott episode. But apparently that wasn’t the reason.”  
“That did happen a while ago now,” Jed pointed out. “I can’t see why he’d still be angry about it now.”  
“You know what he’s like, Kid,” Heyes reminded him. “He can hold a grudge longer than a cat that’s been kicked.”  
“Yeah, I suppose,” Jed agreed. “So what was he mad at then, if it weren’t that?”  
“He was mad at me, because I got arrested and sent to prison!” Heyes informed him, his voice rising with the indignation of it all. “Like it was my fault! He said that it made everybody look bad, and I should have known better.”  
“Geesh!” the Kid responded. “That old hoot-owl. I guess that made for a stressful visit.”  
“Yeah, at first,” Heyes concurred. “But he settled down after a while. We ended up having some good talks. It was alright.”  
“Okay, good.”  
“He was very nice to me,” Randa put in. “I couldn’t believe how generous he was. It was almost embarrassing.”  
Jed laughed. “Yeah, he did the same thing to Beth. I guess he was so surprised that we both ended up getting married, that he wanted to show his appreciation.”  
“Well, he was very appreciative,” Randa emphasized. “And very kind.”  
The partners looked at each other, and smiled.  
“Oh!” Heyes suddenly perked up. “I ran into Yannack!”  
“Yannack!? Yannack Banneck?”  
“Yeah!”  
“Yannack Banneck?” Bridget queried, skeptically.   
“That’s exactly what I said,” Miranda told her.  
The boys looked at the two women.  
“What?” they both asked in unison.  
“You don’t find anything—humorous, about that name?” Miranda asked them.  
Heyes and Jed grinned at each other.  
“Well…” Jed half-heartedly admitted.  
“The way I see it,” Heyes explained, quite seriously. “He never made fun of my name, so I wasn’t going to turn around and do it to him.”   
Now it was the two ladies who smiled at each other.  
“Fair enough,” they agreed.  
“How is he doing?” Jed asked.  
“Good,” Heyes informed him. “He’s married, has a parcel of young’uns. He took over the fish market, and he seems to be doing quite well for himself.”  
“He gave us some oysters,” Miranda chimed in.  
“Ahh,” Finney commented. “A rare delicacy.”  
“I heard ‘a them,” Jed admitted. “Ain’t never had any though.”  
“They’re different, that’s for sure,” Heyes told him. “But good. Especially the way the cook prepared them. Hmm, I wonder if the Palace has any. They’d be worth a try.”  
“If I recollect correctly,” Finney said. “I do not believe that oyster travel well. Perhaps it would be best to eat them fresh.”  
“There you go, Jed,” Bridget teased him. “You’ll just have to take Beth back there, so you can try the oysters.”  
Jed didn’t have time to respond to the gentle jibbing, as the front door opened and Steven’s voice could be heard from the hallway.  
“Hello?” he called. “Anyone home?”  
“Papa! Papa!” Was the first greeting that met his ears.  
The patter of little running footsteps could be heard as the elder Miss Granger ran from the nursery to receive a hug from her father.  
“Hello there, little miss,” Steven returned his daughter’s greeting. “Are you keeping yourself busy and out of mischief, toady?”  
“Yes, Papa.”  
Steven, his daughter in his arms, entered the parlor and smiled a greeting. His eyes lit upon Finney, and he stepped forward to introduce himself. Mr. Finney stood up and the two men shook hands.  
“Good afternoon,” Steven said. “Steven Granger.”  
“Kevin Finney. Scotland Yard.”  
“Ah! The infamous Mr. Finney,” Steven observed. “Jed was in quite a pickle trying to find out if you were legitimate or not. I take it that issue has been settled?”  
“Yeah,” Jed concurred. “Apparently he and Heyes know one another from years back.”  
Steven smiled at Heyes but made no comment.  
Then Sylvie hurried into the parlor and instantly took charge.  
“Oh, good heavens, Mr. Steven!” she declared as she took Rosie from his arms. “Let me take her. You sit yourself down, and I’ll let you your lunch.”  
“Thank you, Sylvie,” Steven accepted the offer. He leaned over and gave his daughter a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be in to see you, in a little while, Sweetheart.”  
The child waved goodbye to everyone in the room and Sylvie carried her out. Steven gave his wife a kiss, and sat down for a much needed respite from his busy schedule. Once settled, he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a letter sized envelope.  
“Before I forget,” he said, handing the envelope to Heyes. “This is for you, from a woman in Yuma.”  
Heyes frowned. “Oh?” He leaned forward and took the envelope. “Who is it from?”  
Steven shrugged. “I think it best if you just read it.”  
Heyes sent him a quick smile and, with Miranda trying to contain her curiosity, he opened the letter and gave it a quick browse over.  
His smile widened. “Oh, it’s from Louise,” he stated. “Here, Kid. I’ll let you read it, since we did end up talking with her before we left Arizona.”  
“Louise?” Jed asked. “Louise Carson?”  
“Yeah.”  
Steven looked confused. “You already spoke with her?”  
“Yes,” Heyes told him. “We ran in to her at the café. She wasn’t too happy about it, as she didn’t want her fiancé to know about our past relationships.”  
“Oh, I see,” Steven accepted that. “Yes, she did seem concerned about you seeing her there. Which is why she gave me the letter, I suppose. Still, it’s a moot point, if you’ve already spoken with her.”  
Heyes shrugged. “Maybe.”  
Sylvie made a discreet entrance, bringing in a sandwich and a cup of tea for her boss. Steven acknowledged her and began to eat.  
Jed smiled. “So, she’s engaged for real, this time,” he commented, as he finished reading the letter. “Good for her. I can see why she didn’t want her fiancé to find out about us, though.”  
“Yeah, it made sense,” Heyes agreed.  
“She was awfully anxious, at first,” Miranda remembered. “She tried to avoid us at every cost, but you know what Hannibal can be like.”  
Jed nodded. “Uh huh.”  
“I just wanted to talk with her,” Heyes protested. “Assure her that everything was fine. She was sorry to hear about Jenny.”  
Jed’s eyes saddened. “Yeah.”  
“Was this someone you knew during your nefarious early years?” Finney asked, his curiosity refusing to be contained.  
Heyes and Jed looked at each other.  
“Well…” Jed shrugged.  
“I don’t know,” Heyes admitted.  
“Nefarious?” Jed asked.  
“They weren’t that nefarious,” Heyes insisted. “We were trying to go straight.”  
Finney smiled. “Trying?”  
The two ex-outlaws locked gazes again. Both shrugged. Steven started to laugh.  
“They were trying, Mr. Finney,” he conceded. “But still, some of the things you fellas got up to during those years weren’t really…”  
“We don’t need to go into that right now,” Heyes quickly interjected.   
“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “I think the point is, we were trying.”  
“Aye, of course,” Finney agreed. “So, this Louise knew you back then, I suppose, and she didn’t want her fiancé to know about that relationship.”  
“There’s a little bit more to it than that,” Heyes explained. “She was dating a man who robbed a bank where he was the assistance manager, by persuading two young fellas to impersonate us and then pull the job. To avoid having to share the take with them, he killed them both. Jed and I went there to clear our names, only to find out that one of the young men that was murdered, was the son of a good friend of ours, Jenny, who was also in town, hoping to get to the bottom of it all.   
“Louise was dating the assistant manager, who just happened to be married to someone else at the time. In the process of trying to convince her to turn against him, she figured out who we really were.”  
“Ah,” Finney nodded in understanding. “And did she turn against him?”  
“No, she didn’t. She ended the relationship, but she wouldn’t turn him in,” Heyes conceded. “And in the end, it didn’t really matter. She cleared us of the robbery and was intent on leaving it at that. Jenny, on the other hand, decided to take justice into her own hands. Once she knew that it was the bank manager who had killed her son, she walking straight into that bank and shot him dead. Louise agreed to stay behind and testify at Jenny’s trial, since, well obviously, Jed and I could not.”  
“I see,” Finney said, sadly. “An unfortunate outcome. I can understand why she would not want this episode to rise up again, considering her intensions to marry. And what of your friend, Jenny? Was she acquitted?”  
“Yes, she was.”  
“Ah, good. Justice, rather than the letter of the law, winning out.”   
“To some degree, Mr. Finney,” Heyes told him. “Her son, Caleb, was all she had in the world. She tried to carry on, but finally gave it up as a lost cause. She eventually took her own life.”  
“That is tragic, indeed,” Finney commented. “What a shame. And all over money.” He tutted. “I’ve seen more misery over the greed for wealth, than over anything else. It can be a very sad world we live in.”  
Heyes instantly felt uncomfortable, as though Finney were judging him and his previous lifestyle. But then he realized, that it was he, himself, who was judging. And the weight of all the people whom he had hurt, because of his selfish choices, came down upon his shoulders like a dark rain-heavy cloud.  
Miranda strove to lighten the mood. “Louise did appear very happy with her life now, though. She’s very much looking forward to getting married.”  
“Yeah, that’s good,” Jed responded. “She was a good person, just made some bad choices.”  
Miranda smiled over at him. “Yes.”  
Steven finished his sandwich and settled back to enjoy his tea. “It is nice to see you two back home again,” he said to the Heyes’s. “Though, I’m afraid you’re going to find some major changes have taken place.”  
“Hmm,” Heyes nodded agreement, relieved to be moving on to another topic. “We noticed some burned out areas on the way into town. I guess the back country is going to be even worse.”  
“What a shame,” Miranda concurred. “It’s such a beautiful area. It’s going to take years for those trees to grow back.”  
“Yes, it will,” Steven agreed. “Although, that’s not the changes I was referring to.”  
“Ah,” Jed interrupted. “We hadn’t really discussed any of that.”  
“You haven’t?” Steven asked, showing some surprise. “Don’t you think that he should know?”  
“I was planning on waitin’ until after this job is done,” Jed explained. “He needs to be focused on the game for now.”  
Hannibal and Miranda exchanged concerned glances.  
“I am sitting right here, you know,” Heyes snarked with irritation. “What are you talking about?” There has been strong suggestion that more has been going on here than just the fire?”  
“Are you sure that Sally is alright?” Miranda asked again. “What is it that we need to know?”  
“Sally is fine, Miranda,” Bridget assured the worried mother. “But…”  
“What?” Miranda demanded to know. “What aren’t you telling us?”  
“Heyes,” Jed began, his expression regretful. “Carl Jacobs is dead.”  
A pin hitting the carpet could have been heard in the ensuing silence. Heyes paled as the news hit home.  
“W…what?” he finally stammered out. “How? What happened?”  
Miranda’s hand came up to her mouth as she gasped with emotion. “Oh no.”  
“It all started when ole’ man Baird made the mistake of hitting Isabelle, right out there on the street, in front of the mercantile.” Steven explained. “Bridget got involved and that old fool turned around a hit her as well.”  
Heyes’ mouth tightened. “He hit you?”  
Bridget nodded solemnly, as Steven squeezed her hand.  
“What an awful man,” Miranda growled. “And the way he treats his daughters is disgusting. I don’t know why he’s been allowed to get away with it for so long.”  
“Under the eyes of the law, he was well within his rights to discipline his own daughters,” Steven explained, though he had the grace to look ashamed at this ruling. “There wasn’t really anything that anyone could do. But as soon as he struck Bridget, that changed the situation.”  
“But it shouldn’t have!” Bridget insisted. “If it’s against the law to strike a woman who is not a family member, then it should be wrong to strike one who is. It’s not fair!”  
“I agree,” Steven assured her. “The laws need to be changed. But it won’t be easy, so if you and Beth have designs on trying to change it, I would appreciate you re-thinking that. You both have children to raise.”  
“Yes,” Bridget agreed. “With two of those children being girls! You’re in the same boat, Hannibal. Doesn’t this bother you?”  
“Ahh.” Heyes was taken aback by being suddenly included into this, apparently long running, squabble. “Of course. Most of us want the best for our children. I have a feeling that I won’t have to worry about Anya. Between Abi and Hester, she’s growing up with a very strong sense of who she is. Sally might have problems…”  
“I wouldn’t worry about Sally,” Jed put in, before he could stop himself. “She proving to be a very independent kind’a gal.”  
“What has she done?” both Hannibal and Miranda asked at the same time.  
“No! Nothin’ bad,” Jed assured them. “It’s just…once she gets somethin’ in her head, she’s gonna do it.”  
“But what has she done?” Miranda asked again, feeling frustrated. “You keep on referring to Sally and to something that happened, but you won’t elaborate. For goodness sakes, Jed, what did she do?”  
“Well, after the Bairds abandoned their place, Sally got the idea in her head that their blue tic ranch hound was scared and hungry,” Jed explained. “She skipped school, in order to rescue it, and caused a whole parcel of us, ta’ get mighty concerned about her. She’s alright though. But now, like I said, I think ya’ might have yourselves a ranch dog, without a ranch, ‘cause that hound won’t leave Sally’s side.”  
Bridget and Steven exchanged a subtle look, but decided not to elaborate with more details about the incident. Maybe Jed was right, not to tell his partner everything about what happened with their daughter. He’d find out about it soon enough.  
Miranda sighed with resignation. “She’s her father’s daughter, alright.”  
“Me?” Heyes was indignant. “She spends most of her time with you.”  
“But she idolizes you.”  
“You’re her best friend.” Then he frowned and looked back at the Kid. “The Bairds abandoned their ranch?”  
“Oh yeah,” Jed continued. “It was one ‘a them, who killed Jacobs.”  
Heyes’ expression darkened. “Which one.”  
“We don’t know yet,” Steven cut in. “We’ll know better once we can run some tests on the bullet. Until then, it’s all conjecture. All we know for sure, is that Sheriff Jacobs rode out to talk to Baird about the assault on Bridget. The Robertson’s found him on the Baird’s property, gut shot. They brought him in to town, and David worked on him all night, but…” he shrugged with defeat. “…he couldn’t save him.”  
Silence again settled over the gathering. Even Finney, who had only spoken with the sheriff a couple of times, could tell that to this group of people, the death of this man was a tragic loss. He could feel the dangerous mood slip over the gentleman he had first come to know as their guide. If he’d had any doubt about the ability of this man to run a gang of outlaws, it would have been dissipated now.  
Heyes’ expression hardened and his dark eyes looked like thunder.   
“Give me five minutes with that old bastard,” he growled. “and I’ll find out who pulled the trigger.”  
“I’d a’ already done it, Heyes,” Jed told him. “If we could.”  
“You’re not gonna let a little thing like the law, get your way, are you?” Heyes asked, with a hint of disgust in his tone. “It didn’t stop us when we ran Devil’s Hole. If we wanted to find out something, we found it out.”  
Jed sat back with a look of hurt surprise on his face, but again, Steven stepped in to calm dangerous waters.  
“You aren’t in Devil’s Hole anymore, Hannibal,” he pointed out. “And the law is the only thing moving this country forward. But you wouldn’t be able to use those tactics on him anyway. Both Baird and Emmett were killed. Seth is in custody, but I doubt that he was the one who pulled the trigger.”  
“Why?” Heyes snarked. “You just going to take his word for it? Of course he’s going to deny it!”  
“No, we’re not just taking his word for it,” Steven explained. “As I said, he is in custody, and he will stand trial. But we have all their guns in our possession. We can tell which gun belonged to which Baird by finger prints, and other methods of identification. We also have the bullet that killed Jacobs. Every gun leaves its own unique mark on the bullets fired from it. All we have to do is fire a bullet from each gun in question, and then we should be able to distinguish which gun fired the lethal shot.”  
“You can do that?” Heyes asked.   
“Yes.”  
“Oh yes,” Finney concurred. “That technique has saved many a man from the gallows. And sent many a more to them, who would otherwise have gotten off.”  
Heyes’ expression went blank for a moment, his thoughts turning inwards. More and more, he was appreciating the fact that he and his partner had gotten out of outlawin’ when they did. They never committed murder, and never would have, but the kind of technology that Steven and Finney were talking about, would have made his job as outlaw leader even more difficult. Could he even open the new safes that were being designed now? He almost didn’t want to try. He came back to the present when he felt Miranda’s hand on his. She smiled when he looked over at her.  
“This is sad news to come home to,” she said. “Carl Jacobs was a good man.”  
“Yeah.” Heyes nodded. “He helped me out. A lot.”  
“Me too,” Jed concurred. “The Bairds ain’t too popular in Brookswood right about now.”  
“No, I guess not,” Heyes agreed. “What about Isabelle, and Courtney? Do they know?”  
“Isabelle doesn’t know,” Steven said. “We thought it best to wait until after their honeymoon. As for Courtney, she was caught trying to help her father, so she’s also under arrest.”  
“Really?” Heyes was surprised.  
“Oh dear,” Miranda commented. “I can’t imagine that went over well.”  
“Nope,” Jed agreed. “She still don’t get why.”  
“A judge will help her to understand,” Steven grumbled, cryptically. “Well, I better get back to work. There’s a lot to catch up on.”  
“Will you be defending or prosecuting Seth?” Heyes asked, as the lawyer stood up from the table.  
“Neither,” Steven admitted. “I know the defendant and was friends with the victim. I’m too close to it, to be affective in either capacity. I do, however, know the lawyer who will be defending him, and he’s a good man. Seth will probably wind up doing a couple of years for conspiracy, but I doubt very much that he’ll hang for murder. I truly believe that he didn’t do it.”  
Heyes nodded acceptance. “Okay. If that’s what you believe, I’ll accept that.”  
“Yes,” Steven reiterated. He leaned down and gave his wife another kiss. “I’ll see you at supper sweetheart.”  
“Yes, see you then.”  
“Hannibal, Miranda, it’s good to see you back home safe. We’ll have to hear all about your adventures, when things settle down.”  
“That will be fine,” Heyes agreed, as all the men stood up to shake hands with their departing host. “We’ll see you again, before we head for home.”  
“Good. Mr. Finney, it was a pleasure to meet you.”  
“Aye,” Finney agreed. “A good day to you, sir.”  
“See you later, Steven,” Jed said.   
“Gentlemen, ladies.” Steven nodded to the group in general, and made his departure.  
“Well,” Bridget said. “Miranda, I have the feeling that the men want to talk business now. Shall we retire to the sitting room, for some tea, and gossip?”  
Miranda smiled. She would have preferred to stay and listen to the plans concerning the poker game, but Bridget looked so hopeful of her company, that she could not refuse.  
“That would be lovely,” she agreed. “Excuse us, gentlemen. We have important matters to discuss.”  
Again, all the men came to their feet while the two ladies exited. While they were still standing, Jed went over to the cabinet and poured out three glasses of cognac. He smiled at Heyes’ raised eyebrow.  
“Don’t worry about it, Heyes,” he said. “Steven gives me the run of their place. Besides, I want to make a toast.” He handed out the other two glasses, and the three men raised them. “To Carl Jacobs. There ain’t too many lawmen that I’d consider a friend, but he sure was one of ‘em.”  
Glasses clinked and a sip was taken.  
“Well,” Heyes said, taking the floor. “He’ll be missed. He was willing to take a chance on us, when others wouldn’t. I still remember the look on his face, when we told him about our plans to start an investigation service. I would have sworn, he swallowed his tin badge on that one, but he was willing to go along with it. He would have been a good partner in our rehab venture too. Here’s to him.”  
More clinking, and sips.  
“Aye,” Finney joined in. “I didn’t know the man, but I salute a fellow officer of the law, fallen in the line of duty. May peace and rest come to him.”  
The final clink and sips, and the three men sat back down. They remained silent again, for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.  
“How’s Joe taking it?” Heyes finally asked.  
“Hard,” Jed admitted. “But he stayed legal. He’ll take over as sheriff until an election can be organized, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he wins that anyway.”  
“I thought he wanted to go back East and study law,” Heyes pointed out.  
“Yeah,” Jed shrugged. “Things change. Pansy wants to get married, and Joe ain’t averse to the idea.”  
Heyes nodded, then changed the subject. “Well, Mr. Finney,” he began. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”  
“Ah, indeed,” Finney agreed. “Has your friend filled you in on any of it?”  
Heyes sent a pointed looked over to Jed. “No.”  
Jed scowled. “When have I had the chance? Besides, you didn’t say nothin’ about getting’ an invite to the game. Why not, Heyes? You know you always wanted to play that game.”  
Heyes looked a little sheepish. “I can’t be putting out that kind of money on a poker game. Not now, not with one child, and another on the way. Which reminds me. Mr. Finney, you have me booked in at the Palace, but who is covering that expense? Our company is still young; we don’t have the financial resources for something like that. Not to mention, the clerk informed me that I am required to hand over the buy-in as collateral. That is a lot of money, Mr. Finney. Who is covering that? Who is responsible for the money, if I lose it? What payment…?”  
Finney held up his hands to calm the barrage of questions. “I assure you, Mr. Heyes, that all of these matters have been arranged. Your stay at the Palace is being covered by the Yard. Tomorrow morning, you will find that the sum of $20,000 has been submitted to the game organizers in your name. You may pick up your receipt at the front desk. The Yard would appreciate you returning that money once the job is done, so please try not to lose too much. Anything you win, over and above the buy-in, will, of course, be yours to keep. As payment, you might say.”  
“Well, that’s the rub, isn’t it?” Heyes commented quietly. “If I lose any, or all, of the $20,000, then I’m liable for it. I can’t afford that, Mr. Finney.”  
“You can declare it as a business expense,” Finney suggested. “Perhaps if you look at it as a loan? You’ve handled large sums before, have you not? Raw diamonds, for example? I’m sure those stones were worth far more than this sum.”  
Heyes shot a glance over to the Kid, then smiled humorously at Mr. Finney. “How did you know about that?”  
Finney smiled back. “Ah, we have our ways, Mr. Heyes. Besides, from what I understand of your skills at the poker table, I fully expect you’ll be coming out ahead. The Yard would not risk such a sum on someone who was not capable.”  
“Yes, I’m sure,” Heyes agreed. “Still, Mr. Finney, I’ll need to discuss this with my partner, if you don’t mind. It is his company as well. If I lose this money, it could ruin both of us before we’ve even gotten started.”  
“Ah yes,” Finney agreed. “But if you succeed in capturing our culprit, it would put your young company on an international scale. Well worth the risk, don’t you think?”  
“Certainly,” Heyes agreed. “But I still wish to discuss this with him, before making the final decision. If you don’t mind.”  
“Of course not,” Finney accepted. “T’is a wise thing to do. But it would be a shame to let this man slip through our fingers, when we have him so close.”  
“What has he done?” Heyes asked, his curiosity taking over from his caution. “More stolen gems?”  
“No, not this time,” Finney denied. “Money and bonds, and an embarrassment to the aristocracy. It seems that he conned the wrong people, and with politics being what they are, the Yard was engaged to bring him to task.”  
Heyes nodded, taking another sip of the cognac. “I certainly understand politics. So, who am I looking for? What does he look like?”  
“Ah, now that’s our rub,” Finney acknowledged. “We don’t know.”  
“You don’t know?” Heyes asked, incredulously. “Then how do you know, he’s even here?”  
“The money, Mr. Heyes,” Finney answered. “Always follow the money.”  
Heyes grinned and glanced at the Kid again. Jed just smiled. He was sitting quietly throughout this exchange, watching the two brilliant minds sparing back and forth. He already knew what the outcome was going to be; Heyes could never resist a challenge. And this high stakes poker game was already more than he could resist, even though he was putting on a fine, hard act of disinterest. Add to it another master thief, and conman, and Heyes was hooked.  
Heyes himself, looked a little sheepish at the knowing light that was in his partner’s eyes. Heyes’ act was all for Finney, and Jed made it quite apparent that he knew it. Heyes almost rolled his eyes at, yet again, not being able to pull one over on his partner.  
“Follow the money,” he repeated. “I recall an ex-Pinkerton agent saying the same thing.”  
“And it’s the truth,” Finney reiterated. “The money led us here, and here is where he is. He’s a gambling man; he would not be able to resist the Biggest Game in the West.”  
“Alright,” Heyes agreed. “If I do decide to take this case, how will I know him?”  
Now it was Finney’s turn to smile and send a humorous glance to Jed. He knew Heyes was going to take the job; he was asking too many question for a man who was not interested.  
“That is where your skill as a sham artist yourself, will come in handy,” the Yard man told him. “I expect you can spot a fake within the first ten minutes of a game.”  
Heyes mused about this statement. It had taken him longer than ten minutes to weed out the snake in McCreedy’s game, but he had still done it. But that man was hardly a professional, and nowhere near the caliber the thief that they were now talking about. Still, Heyes was confident, that if a shyster, even one as devious as the one that Mr. Finney described, was in the game, he would weed him out.  
Finney sipped his cognac and sat watching the thoughts flitting across Heyes’ face. The Yard man smiled quietly. “Are we in agreement, Mr. Heyes?”  
“Oh yes, yes, you’re quite right, Mr. Finney,” Heyes agreed. “If he’s in the game, I’ll spot him. It’s still the matter of the $20,000, however.”  
“Aye.” Finney nodded his understanding. “Discuss it with your partner—and your wife. If you chose not to do the job, your stay at the Palace will still be on us. But I have a feeling, Mr. Heyes, that you will be joining with us on this little caper.”  
“You may be right, Mr. Finney,” Heyes agreed. “You may very well be right.”  
Xxx  
Settled in to the sitting room, with tea and biscuits, Bridget and Miranda quickly fell into relaxed conversation.  
“I’m so pleased to know that you and Hannibal had a lovely trip,” Bridget told her. “And you’re so tanned! Did you not cover up, while you were down South?”  
“Not the way the women here do,” Miranda confided. “I adapted very quickly to the local garb, and it is made to be cool and uninhibiting.” She laughed at Bridget’s raised eyebrows. “Nothing scandalous, I assure you! Although, some ladies who knew me in my former life, might think so. Oh, but those cottons were so light and comfortable. I almost hated to go back to our typical western clothing. But I’m afraid it’s much too chilly now, for my summer wear.”  
“Well, you’re looking healthy and vibrant,” Bridget told her. “And, perhaps in need of some confinement clothing?”  
Miranda laughed. “Yes!” she stated. “I couldn’t believe it, when I tried to put on my dress to come here, I couldn’t even get the buttons done up. The Mexican skirts are so loose and unrestricting, that I hadn’t even noticed that my circumference had increased!”  
Bridget laughed. “I’ve never heard it put that way before! But of course you can have mine. They might be a little short for you, but most of them have a hem that can be put down. Actually, you’re closer in height to Trish, and I’m sure that she’ll still have plenty of her dresses. Don’t you worry. Between the lot of us, we’ll have you well docked out for every stage of your condition. It’s so exciting! You and Hannibal, having a little one. After all the sad things that have happened since you left, this will be a welcome change.”  
Miranda’s expression sobered. “Yes. I still can’t believe that Sheriff Jacobs is gone. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt him.” Bridget hung her head, and Miranda sensed that she had touched on a raw nerve. She reached out and placed a hand on her friend’s arm. “Bridget, what is it?”  
Bridget took a deep breath and controlled her emotions. “I feel like it’s all my fault. I told Papa and Steven not to push the matter. All those years, and nobody did anything about the way that old brute treated his family, but as soon as I got mixed up in it, the whole town was in an up-roar! I should have just stayed out of it. But he was hitting Isabelle, right there, in the middle of the street, in front of everyone! The injustice of it would not let me turn my back. But if I had stayed out of it, Papa and Steven would not have insisted that the sheriff confront that man. It’s my fault!”  
“Oh no, Bridget,” Miranda soothed her. “No, it’s not. No one could foresee how this was going to end up. The sheriff was not a reckless, or a foolish man. He would never have gone out there, if he thought that the Bairds would react that way. How could anyone have seen that coming?”  
“But I did,” Bridget insisted. “I knew there would be trouble, if Papa pushed it. I begged them not to, but they wouldn’t listen to me.”  
“It’s a tragic thing,” Miranda admitted. “But the only ones to blame for it, are the Bairds. And it seems that they have already paid the ultimate price for their stupidity. It may sound silly, but I do hope that young Seth doesn’t get hit too hard with this. It always seemed to me that his father and older brother had him under their thumb. If he went on the run with them, it was probably because he had no choice.”  
Bridget nodded. “Yes, I suppose.”  
“How is your father doing?” Miranda asked, neatly changing the subject.  
Bridget smiled. “Better. David is letting him go home a few days. By the time you and Hannibal get back, they should be well settled into the old ranch house again.”  
“I’m glad to hear it,” Randa told her. “It was very frightening for us, to hear about all this going on up here, but not be able to do anything about it.”  
“I seem to recall that you and Hannibal had your own problems right around that time!” Bridget reminded her.  
“I’ll say!” Randa agreed, and rolled her eyes. “What a proud and stubborn man, my husband can be sometimes!”  
“Can’t they all?”  
“Yes!”  
And the two women broke up laughing.  
“I’m so looking forward to getting home again,” Miranda admitted. “I’m ready for some quiet, and sleeping in my own bed. And I miss Sally so much. I never would have thought it possible.”  
“She misses you as well,” Bridget told her. “It’ll be quite the homecoming, I’m sure.”  
Miranda sent Bridget a suspicious look and voiced her concerns. “What are you not telling me?”  
“What?” Bridget responded and instantly looked guilty. “What do you mean?”  
“Come on, Bridget. Something has happened with Sally, and you and Jed aren’t telling us. What is it?”  
“Oh dear,” Bridget groaned. “It’s only going to upset you.”  
Now, Miranda was really worried. “Bridget, what is it!”  
“You have to promise not to tell Hannibal, until after the game.”  
“I don’t have to make any such promise,” Miranda told her. “Tell me what happened, and I’ll decide what Hannibal needs to know right now.”  
“Well,” Bridget began, reluctantly. “Apparently when Sally went out to the Baird ranch to rescue the dog, she ran into Courtney and some transient, who’s done work for them on occasion. I guess they decided to use her as a hostage or something, because they tried to kidnap her.”  
“What!” Miranda practically jumped out of her chair. “And you weren’t going to tell us this? Is she alright?” Her voice turned dangerous. “Did they hurt her?”  
“No, no!” Bridget assured her again. “She’s fine! She was pretty scared when Jed found her, but you know what children are like. By the time they got back to town, all she could talk about was the dog.”  
“It’s a good thing Courtney is in jail,” Randa fumed. “Otherwise, I might do her bodily harm. If she hasn’t already been charged with attempted kidnapping, you can bet Hannibal will insist on it.”  
“She has been,” Bridget assured her. “Both her and her friend. Attempted kidnapping and obstructing justice. I think she’s in more trouble that Seth is, at this point.”  
“Good!” Randa hissed. Then she took a deep breath and a sip of her tea. Her expression became thoughtful. “I see what you mean about not telling Hannibal about this until after the game. He’s already hurting over Sheriff Jacobs. This will push him over the edge. He’ll want to pack up and head for home, right now. I mean, I want to pack up and head for home right now, despite being exhausted. But I realize how important this job is. Not only to catch this criminal, but for what it will do for Han and Jed’s business. It’s a rare opportunity. We can’t have him distracted.” She stopped talking and stared down into the depths of her teacup. Bridget waited for her to gather her thoughts. Finally, Miranda sighed and looked up. “We don’t keep secrets from one another. I really do need to tell him. He’ll be angry with me if I don’t. And this is something he needs to know about.”  
“Of course he does,” Bridget agreed. “But not yet. And he doesn’t need to know that you know. Let Jed take the blame for this one, he’s used to it. Besides, he’s the one who chose not to tell you. He wasn’t even going to tell you about Carl Jacobs, but some things can’t be kept secret for long.”  
Miranda smiled, though there was sadness in her eyes. “No,” she said, then shook her head. “Hannibal will know if I try to lie to him. I’ll tell him tonight, when we’re alone. But I’ll assure him that Sally is alright. It’ll be fine.”  
Xxx  
Mr. Finney had departed to tend to his own errands, leaving Heyes, Miranda and Jed to decide what they were going to do with the rest of their afternoon.  
“I’m tired,” Miranda admitted as the taxi dropped them all off in front of the Brown Palace. “I’m going to go up to our room and just relax for the rest of the day.”  
“Are you sure?” Heyes asked. “We could do some shopping, or take in some of the sights.”  
Miranda smiled and placed a hand on her husband’s arm.   
“No,” she told him. “I need some quiet time. You and Jed haven’t seen one another for ages. Go off and have some fun. Go to the saloon for a beer, or play some poker. I’m fine on my own. Maybe I’ll read one of those dime novels you picked up for five cents apiece.”  
“Oh great,” Hannibal mumbled.  
“What?” Jed asked. “Five cents?”  
“Yes,” Miranda confirmed. “A whole bin full of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry dime novels, on sale for five cents. Hannibal bought the lot of them.”  
“Five cents apiece?” Jed repeated. “That’s down right insultin’!”  
“Yeah!” Heyes agreed. “I could hardly just leave them there. Probably end up in someone’s wood stove.”  
“So you bought ‘em all?” Jed asked.  
“Well…yeah.”  
“Okay,” Jed said. “I hope you enjoy readin’ stuff that ain’t true.”  
“Of course!” Miranda teased. “That’s what makes it fun.”  
Heyes and Jed exchanged looks, then Jed shrugged.  
“Yeah, okay,” he admitted. “I see your point.”  
“So,” Miranda continued. “You two go off and have some fun. I’m going to go up to our room and relax. Don’t worry about me. If you want to stay out for the evening, go ahead. I can always order something up from the restaurant, if I want to. Didn’t Mr. Finney say that Scotland Yard was going to cover the cost of our stay here, no matter what?”  
“Yes, he did,” Heyes concurred. “So if that is what you want to do, then enjoy.”  
“I will,” Miranda agreed. “I’ll see you both later. Have fun.”  
“Shall I see you up to our room?” Heyes asked.  
“Don’t be silly,” Randa told him. “Off with you.”  
“Okay,” Heyes told her, and gave her a kiss. “I’ll see you later.”  
The two men watched as Miranda entered the lobby of the grand hotel, and then disappeared into its depths.   
“I think we both got ourselves some pretty amazing wives,” Jed commented, as they stood and watched.  
“Yep,” Heyes agreed. “Couldn’t ‘a done better.”  
Xxx  
The partners found themselves a quiet table near the back of the saloon, where they could have some privacy to talk. Mid-afternoon in these types of establishments didn’t offer up much in the way of entertainment, so, for now, they had the room pretty much to themselves. Still, they brought their beers over from the bar and laid claim on the table before things started to get busy, as they both knew that it would, soon.  
“So,” Jed began, after his first gulp. “What do ya’ think?”  
“About what?”  
Jed shrugged. “The job.”  
“Hmm,” Heyes murmured over his own mouthful. “I don’t know. It seems kind of risky.”  
Jed laughed. “When has that ever stopped ya’?”  
“Since I’ve had a family to think about,” Heyes answered him. “And a business to build. If I lose, it could ruin us.”  
“Heyes,” Jed lectured. “When ya’ think about it, you’ve always had a family to think about, and a business to build. People have always counted on ya’. This ain’t no different.”  
“Those fellas were adults—well, sort of,” Heyes pointed out. “In any case, they had a choice. If they weren’t happy with things, they could leave. Sally doesn’t have that choice.”  
“No, but Miranda does,” Jed pointed out. “What does she say about it?”  
Heyes snorted into his beer. “She’s all for it. She’ll even back up the buy-in, if I lose.”  
“Well then, what’s the problem?” Jed asked, feeling exasperated at his partner’s reluctance. “Ya’ got my blessin’. We’ve always taken chances like this. This ain’t new.”  
“I just don’t think it’s right, for me to be spending my wife’s money.”  
“Oh come on, Heyes,” Jed chided him. “She’s a smart lady, she knows the risks. Damn, she married you, didn’t she? She just wants to help out. Why don’t ya’ want ta’ let her? It’s kind’a her company too, and Beth’s.”  
Heyes considered this reasoning. He sighed. “I guess, I just don’t want to be owing anybody. You know. We’ve always managed to get by on our own.”  
Jed laughed out loud. “Since when, Heyes? Neither ‘a us would’a made it out’a our teens, if it weren’t for others willin’ ta’ help us. We wouldn’t ‘a gotten the amnesty without Lom. You probably would’a died in prison without Kenny, and Morin. Hell, we’d both be dead if not for David. And neither ‘a us would have what we have now, if it weren’t for Jesse. So, where do you get this notion that we’ve always made it on our own?”  
Another sigh from the independent one. Then he smiled, mischievously. “It would be fun, wouldn’t it?”  
Jed smiled, his blue eyes sparkling. “Ya’ know ya’ want to. You’ve always wanted to get an invite to that game. Now, not only do ya’ have that invite, but it works into a real good job for our business. Ya’ gotta do it.”  
“Well,” Heyes grinned. “When ya’ put it that way.” Jed laughed and raised his glass in a toast. Heyes did the same, and they tapped mugs. “Let’s go play some poker.”  
Xxx  
Early evening found the partners still in the saloon. The place quickly filled up with patrons as the afternoon had begun to wane. Now, the establishment was hopping with poker players, casual bar drinkers and a few of the upstairs gals making their rounds in hopes of procuring their night’s wages.   
Both Heyes and the Kid stood up at the same instant, and began to collect their winnings from the game they had settled in to. These actions were met with suspicious looks from the other players.  
“Oh, we’ll be back,” Heyes assured them. “It’s just time for a break.”  
“Yeah,” Jed concurred. “I’m gettin’ hungry. What are the sandwiches like in this place?”  
“They’re good,” one of the players told them, more in the hopes of keeping them in the saloon than to give them an honest critique. “We’ll be waitin’ right here for ya’.”  
Heyes grinned and nodded.  
Turning their backs on the game, they scanned the room, looking for another empty table. Heyes nudged the Kid and nodded towards a small table that was far enough away from the tinny piano music, so they could still talk.  
“Go grab that one,” he said. “And I’ll order us some sandwiches and more beer.”  
“Okay.”  
Heyes got the bartender’s attention and placed their order. Two more beers were filled on the spot and Heyes paid and gathered up the refreshments to take to their table. He turned and then frowned when he spotted a scene that left him flat-footed.  
Jed was standing by their table, his arm casually draped over the shoulder of one of the scantily dressed ladies of the evening. She was all over him, hoping to entice him upstairs, and Jed seemed to be all for it. Heyes hurried over, figuring that he better intervene before his cousin made a mistake that he would, hopefully, regret later.  
“Jed, ma’am.” Heyes nodded a greeting to the disappointed young woman. “Ah, if you’ll excuse us, my friend and I have things to talk about.”  
The lady adorned a well-practiced pout, but did move off to continue her hunt elsewhere.  
“What did ya’ do that for?” Jed asked as they both sat down. “There was nothin’ goin’ on.”  
“Hmm,” Heyes mumbled, as he set the beers on the table. “Maybe you’ve had a little too much beer.”  
“I ain’t drunk, Heyes,” Jed snarked at him. “Like I said; that was nothin’.”  
“It didn’t look like nothing. What’s the matter with you?”  
“Nothin’!”  
“Here we were, just talking about how good we have it now,” Heyes persisted. “What amazing wives we have, that were crazy enough to marry us, give us families and a place to call home. Now, I see you flirting with some saloon gal.”  
“I ain’t your baby cousin no more, Heyes,” Jed reminded him. “I don’t need no lecture. I’d never betray Beth, you know that.”  
“I thought I knew it,” Heyes commented. “What’s wrong? Have you and Beth had a fight, or something?”  
“No, nothin’ like that,” Jed assured him. “I love her.”  
“Yeah.”  
“But…”  
Heyes’ brow went up. “But what?” he asked, quietly.  
“Don’t ya’ ever miss it, Heyes?”  
“What? Carousing with saloon gals?”  
“No, not that,” Jed elaborated. “I mean, our outlawin’ days. Bein’ foot loose and fancy free. You know, doin’ whatever we wanted, when we wanted, and with whoever we wanted. The freedom, you know. No cares, no obligations…”  
“No home, as such,” Heyes filled in. “No family. Running from posse’s, getting shot at. Freezing our butts off, sleeping on the ground. Yeah, what’s not to miss?”  
“C’mon Heyes, you know what I’m talkin’ about.”  
“Yeah, I know,” Heyes acknowledged with a sigh. “Yeah, I do miss it, the fun stuff, anyway. Being a family man, and now, setting up a new business, does have its drawbacks. People expect us to behave to a certain standard now, there’s obligations and pressures. Of course, we had all that before, too; it’s just different now, a higher standard I suppose. But, I think the pay-off is worth it. Don’t you?”  
“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “I ain’t sayin’ that I wanna go back to that. I love my life now. I love Beth and T.J., I love ‘em both so much, my heart aches sometimes. I’m just sayin’ there are times, like shortly after T.J. was born, Beth was so tired all the time. We didn’t…you know. For months. I can’t say I weren’t tempted, sometimes. But I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it. I kept thinkin’ about how I’d feel afterwards, and how much it would hurt Beth, if she ever found out. Naw. The guilt I felt about betrayin’ Jesse’s trust would be nothin’ compared to betrayin’ Beth.”  
Heyes nodded. “Yeah. You hold that thought, Kid. Because sooner or later, she would find out. You don’t want to ruin what you have now. We worked too hard for it, went through too much hell, to just throw it away on a one-night stand. As tempting as it might be at the time.”  
“No foolin’. So ya’ see, Heyes? Ya’ got nothin’ ta’ worry about. We was just talkin’, and that’s it.”  
Heyes nodded and looked over towards the poker game. Unfortunately, the gal who had been nestling up to the Kid was directly in his path, and when their eyes locked, she smiled at him. He felt his heart to a quick skip; she was very attractive, but then he quickly diverted his gaze so as not to give her any ideas.  
He sighed deeply and then noticed Jed grinning at him.  
“Yeah, yeah,” he waved that look away.  
The Kid laughed and decided that it was time to change the subject. “So,” he said, between chuckles. “How is ole’ Silky doin’, besides blamin’ you fer goin’ to prison?”  
Heyes sighed. “He’s alright, but sometimes I think he deliberately tries to make me uncomfortable. He blames me for you leaving, ya’ know.”  
Jed snorted. “That old coot. He blamed me for you leavin’.”   
The two men looked at each other, and both broke up laughing.  
“He always did like to needle, didn’t he?” Jed commented. “Anything he could find, to throw us off balance. He sure ain’t changed none.”  
“Nope,” Heyes agreed. “He hit me with a good one, that’s for sure. Right out of the blue.”  
“Oh yeah? What?”  
“Well, apparently he knew Miranda’s first husband.”  
“What!?” Jed actually sat up straighter in his surprise.   
“Yeah. They were business associates.”  
“Ya’ mean William Thornton was a thief?”  
“No, no,” Heyes corrected him. “Silky said that Bill Thornton was the most honest man he’s ever known, but also the shrewdest, at least when it came to investing. They were actually legitimate business associates. Ole’ Bill had no idea what a scoundrel he was in partnership with.”  
“Well, I’ll be,” Jed commented. “That must ‘a made fer some interestin’ conversation.”  
Heyes rolled his eyes. “Miranda enjoyed hearing about it, but I think Silky just brought it up to rub it in my face. Living off the money of my wife’s deceased husband. You know, that kind of thing.”  
“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “I wouldn’t put it past him. Miranda don’t think that way though, does she?”  
“No,” Heyes assured him. “Just the opposite, in fact. I don’t even have to discuss this job with her, or the risks involved. She’s already pushing me to do it.”  
“Well, there ya’ go,” Jed emphasized. “Ya’ got the okay from both of us. There ain’t nothin’ holdin’ ya’ back.”  
Heyes smiled and nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed, and raised his mug for a toast. “Here’s to getting back into the game.”  
“I’ll drink ta’ that,” Jed agreed, and they tapped glasses.  
“Speaking of the game,” Heyes commented as he drained his mug, “let’s go play some more poker. Then I, at least, will go back to the hotel room and spend some time with my wife.”  
“Rub it in, why don’t ya’?”  
Xxx  
It was late by the time Hannibal returned to his suite at the Palace. He tried to be quiet as he maneuvered around their darkened bedroom, but he was a little bit drunk, and kept banging into things. Cursing in a voice that he thought was a whisper, but actually wasn’t, he ended up being successful in awakening his wife.  
She stretched and then smiled at his lumbering attempts at discretion. “What time is it?” she asked him, and smiled again at the disappointed groan that escaped him.  
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s around midnight.”  
“Did you and Jed have a good time?” she asked, though she could tell by his state of inebriation that they had.  
“Yeah,” he confirmed, as he crawled into bed. “It was good to catch up on things. Thank you. I really shouldn’t have left you alone for so long, though.”  
“That’s alright,” she assured him, as she snuggled in close. “I told you, you could. I actually enjoyed some quiet time to myself. I had a lovely dinner brought up, drank tea, and read your books. It was very relaxing.”  
Hannibal snorted louder than he intended. “Sounds entertaining.”  
Miranda chuckled. “It was. Have you made a decision about the job?”  
“Yeah,” Heyes confirmed. “I’m going to do it.”  
“Good. I really think you would have regretted it, if you didn’t.”  
“You’re probably right,” he agreed. “I would like to get home though. So much has happened since we left; I want to make sure everyone really is alright. I still can’t believe that Sheriff Jacobs is dead. It’s one of those things in life that shouldn’t have happened. There are so many lawmen out there who are bastards, why in the world…?”  
“I know,” Miranda soothed him. “Life really isn’t fair sometimes.”  
“Yeah. Well, at least the Bairds have been made accountable. Like Steven said, Seth will likely do time, even though he probably wasn’t the one who pulled the trigger. I don’t know about Courtney though. She might get off, since all she really did was try to help out her family.”  
“Yes, I suppose,” Miranda commented, but now her thoughts began to whirl and a heavy silence settled between them.  
“What?” her husband asked her.  
“What do you mean?”  
Hannibal chuckled. “You say that you can hear me thinking, well your brain suddenly switched into full gear. What’s on your mind?”  
Miranda bit into her lower lip. She couldn’t lie to him, and besides that, he’d know it, if she did. If only he hadn’t mentioned Courtney. If the subject hadn’t come up, Miranda probably could have managed to avoid telling him about the full extent of Courtney’s involvement, and the charges laid against her. Bridget was right, in that Courtney would probably end up in worse trouble than Seth, at this point.  
Heyes frowned when an answer from his wife was not forthcoming. “Miranda?” he asked again, his voice now edged with concern. “What is it?”  
“It’s Sally.”  
Heyes felt a tingle of fear go through him. “What’s happened?”  
“Everything is alright now,” Miranda assured him. “Sally is fine.”  
“But?”  
“Apparently, when Sally was at the Baird ranch, seeing to the dog, Courtney and one of their hired hands found her there, and attempted to take her with them when they went to meet up with ole’ man Baird.” Miranda felt her husband tense beside her. “It’s alright, though,” she quickly reiterated. “Sally got away from them. She’s safe, back with Belle. Apparently all she can talk about, is her new dog.”  
“Dammit!” Heyes sat up in bed. “Forget this job, we need to get home.”  
“But she’s alright, Hannibal. Rushing home now, isn’t going to change anything. Do the job, and we’ll head for home right after it. Talk to Jed about it, in the morning. He’ll know more about it.” She rubbed his back, in an attempt to relax him. “Lie back down. Everything is alright.”  
Heyes sighed, then did as his wife instructed. “Well, you’re right about one thing, at least. I will be talking to Jed in the morning, and finding out why he didn’t tell me about this in the first place.”  
Xxx  
“JEDIDIAH!”   
“Oh oh,” Jed mumbled to his in-laws, as they all hovered around their morning coffee. “He ain’t called me that since…”  
Hannibal Heyes strode across the wooden floor of the café, ignoring the other patrons who were all watching him with some trepidation in their eyes. He stomped directly over to the casually laid breakfast table and slammed his opened palm against its surface. In another instant, that same hand was raised and pointing a finger at the slightly bemused blue eyes.  
“You didn’t tell me the whole story, Jedidiah!” Heyes growled at his partner.  
Jed sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “What whole story is that, Heyes?”  
“That that bitch, Courtney, tried to kidnap my daughter…”  
Several gasps of alarm sounded from a few of the other tables in the establishment, and Miranda came up behind her husband and laid a hand on his arm.  
“Will you calm down,” she told him. “Come on. Sit. Have some coffee, before we get thrown out of this place.”  
Heyes straightened up and did a quick survey of the room. For the first time, he noticed the other patrons all looking at him with eyes wide with concern. The young waitress stood still, clutching the slowly tipping coffee pot, as she considered the wisdom of approaching the table. Heyes took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile.  
“Sorry,” he said to the room in general. “Nothing to be concerned about.” He looked at the waitress. “I apologize Miss. And yes, my wife and I would like some coffee.”  
“Yeah, I think ya’ better,” Jed commented. “Get up on the wrong side of the bed, this mornin’?”  
Heyes’ eyes darkened as his gaze bore down on his partner again. Steven felt that it was time to step in and calm the waters.  
“Don’t blame Jed,” he said. “I recommended that he not tell you, until after this job you’re taking on.”  
Heyes ignored Steven and Bridget as he continued to glare at the Kid.  
“And since when does someone else’s opinion matter more to you, than telling me the truth?” Heyes snarled at Jed.  
“Since I happen to agree with ‘im,” Jed stated bluntly. “Come on, Heyes. She’s alright. I was gonna tell ya’ later. You runnin’ off half-cocked now, ain’t gonna make any difference. She’s home and safe, and Courtney’s locked up. Who told ya’ anyways?”  
“I did,” Miranda admitted, as she and Han sat down. “I wasn’t going to, but, true to form, he knew I was holding back, and he asked me. I’m afraid that I’m not prepared to lie to my husband.”  
“Unlike some folks,” Heyes grumbled, with a slight curling of his lip.  
Aside from a sideways glance from the Kid, Heyes’ surliness was ignored.  
“How’d you find out?” Jed asked Miranda.  
Miranda sent a sheepish look over to Bridget, followed by accusatory ones from Jed and Steven.  
“I couldn’t help it!” Bridget insisted. “She knew I hadn’t told her everything, and I’m no good at keeping secrets!”  
“Great!” Jed complained. “It’s hard enough keepin’ secrets from Heyes without the women folk turnin’ against me.”  
The waitress showed up then, and setting out two more coffee cups, she filled all the cups at the table, set the pot down and took out her note pad. Heyes noticed that her hands were still trembling from his onslaught, and he had the good graces to feel some repentance.  
“You folks know what you would like?” she asked quietly.  
Miranda smiled at her, to ease her anxiety. “I think I’ll have the oatmeal. Do you have any fruit to go with it?”  
“We have canned peaches!” she announced, with a large grin. Apparently canned peaches were a big deal. “We also have cinnamon, and some milk to go with it.”  
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Miranda stated. “Yes, I’ll have that.”  
“That does sound good,” Bridget agreed. “I’ll have that too.”  
The waitress nodded, writing things down as she went.  
“And you gentlemen?”  
“Steak and eggs!” Jed announced. “Pan fried potatoes and a stack ‘a toast, with butter.”  
“You’re going to get fat, eating like that,” Heyes scolded him. “It’s one thing when we were on the lam, or when you were working at the Double J, but you’re getting older now, and you sure ain’t as active. Better watch it.”  
Jed sent him a minor scowl, knowing that he hadn’t heard the end of this yet.  
The waitress looked at Heyes. “And you, sir?”  
“Oh, ah, I’ll have the same as him.”  
Jed snorted and the other three people at the table laughed.  
“What?” Heyes asked. “I burn it off faster than he does. I can get away with it.”  
“Yeah, right Heyes,” Jed told him. “It seems ta’ me that you put on a few extra pounds while you was away. Married life agreein’ with ya’?”  
“You should talk,” Heyes countered. “It looks to me like your gun belt is getting a little tight. You’re not going to be able to keep up with Beth, pretty soon. She’ll have to find herself a younger, more athletic fella…”  
“Gentlemen, please!” Steven protested through his chuckling. “Let us have a civil breakfast. One thing I hate, is going to work with a sour stomach.”  
“Would you like the same as them?” the waitress asked.  
“I’m afraid to now,” Steven admitted. “Actually, I think I will just have three fried eggs, and some of that nice thick ham that came in yesterday.”  
“Yessir,” she agreed, and left to fill the orders.  
Heyes took a gulp of coffee and had to admit that the caffeine was beginning to calm his mood. He sighed deeply, and allowed the strong aroma to invade his senses. That did feel better. He took in another gulp and glanced around to find everyone else at the table staring at him.  
“Well,” he said. “Is anybody going to tell me what actually happened with my daughter.”  
“It would be nice to know,” Miranda agreed.   
“Yeah, I suppose,” Jed conceded. “But ya’ gotta promise me, ya’ won’t back out’a this job now. Ya’ gotta stay focused on it.”  
Heyes grumbled to himself, but then nodded. “Alright,” he agreed. “As long as she’s fine.”  
“She’s fine, Heyes,” Jed assured him, yet again. “I promise ya’, she ain’t even talkin’ about it anymore.”  
“Well,” Heyes shrugged and then sighed. “What happened?”  
“I don’t know what set her off, Heyes,” Jed explained. “She said that she just knew that their ranch dog needed help. You know what she’s like; she just picks up on things like that. It’s spooky.” Hannibal and Miranda both nodded. “Anyway, I was gettin’ ready ta’ head out to the Double J and I went out to the pasture ta’ get Gov, when I noticed that Fanny was missin’, along with her bridle.  
“I got after her as soon as I could, but by the time I was gettin’ close to the Baird’s place, I spotted her, gallopin’ hell bent for leather, right towards me. I was able to stop Fanny, and get some idea of what was goin’ on, but I wanted to get her back safe, before goin’ after Courtney and her hired hand.  
“I did get her back safe, too, Heyes. By the time we got back ta’ town, all she could talk about was that damn dog. He was followin’ her, by the way. Wouldn’t let her out’a his sight.  
“I tell ya’ though, Heyes; it was Fanny who got her out’a that scrap. From what Sally was sayin’, it seems that mare knew somethin’ was amiss, and the first chance she got, she high-tailed it fer home.  
“After that, Joe and I went after ‘em. We ended up trackin’ ‘em all the way up to where the Bairds were camped. Lom had taken a posse out after the Bairds, and we ended up meetin’ up with them. We got ‘em all.   
“You know, ole’ man Baird actually tried to use Courtney as a shield against us? Can you imagine? His own daughter. The guy’s a dirt bag.”  
“Yes,” Steven agreed. “It sounds morbid, but it’s probably better for him that he’s dead. If he wasn’t, he’d be in a lot of trouble right now.”  
Heyes grunted. “If he’d gotten a hold of Sally, he would have wished he was dead. And this guy, the hired hand, who was in on it with Courtney, he’s under arrest as well?”  
“Yes,” Steven told him. “On charges of attempted kidnapping. Actually, I hope Sally will be up to it; she might have to come in to testify.”  
Heyes and Miranda exchanged glances.  
“One thing at a time,” Heyes finally said.  
“So,” Jed ventured. “Ya’ still gonna do the job?”  
Heyes looked to his wife. “What do you think?”  
“It sounds like she’s fine,” Randa told him. “And you know how much she loves her grandparents. I think she’ll be alright until we get home.”  
Heyes nodded. “Yeah, okay. Alright. I guess it’s a go. All I have to do now, is get ready for it.”  
Xxx  
Hannibal and Miranda made their way down the staircase and to the lobby of the Brown Palace. Both were dressed for a formal gathering, and they made quite an attractive couple as they entered the lounge where the meet-and-greet for the up-coming game was being held. Heads turned as the couples’ presence was detected, and a lull settled over the quiet conversation.  
Heyes made sure to stand up straight and presented his most elegant smile, as the host of the evening approached them. Heyes nodded acknowledgement, and the two men shook hands.  
“Mr. Heyes,” he greeted him. “What a pleasant surprise that you were able to attend our little game, after all.”  
“Yes,” Heyes agreed. “It was all in the timing.”  
“Of course. I’m Mr. Hardy. If you have any question or concerns about the game tomorrow night, I am the one you talk to.”  
Heyes nodded. “Fine. My I present my wife, Miranda Heyes.”  
Hardy smiled politely and gave a little bow as he accepted her hand in greeting.  
“Ma’am. A pleasure. You’re looking lovely this evening.”  
“Thank you,” Miranda responded appropriately. “It is a pleasure to be here.”  
“Of course,” Hardy agreed, as though that were obvious. “Feel free to mingle. Would you like anything to drink?”  
“Well,” Heyes considered. “Red wine would be nice.”  
“White, for me,” Randa interjected.  
Hardy nodded, and raising his hand, he snapped his fingers at the waiter who was making the rounds. He made a quick motion that was apparently a pre-determined sign language for wine, and the waiter quickly disappeared to attend to the request.  
Hardy’s eyes darted away from his guests as he sighted some more new arrivals.  
“Excuse me,” he had the grace to say. “Please, enjoy yourselves.”  
And with that, he hurried over to greet the next wave.  
Heyes and Miranda smiled at each other over the impromptu exit of their host. The waiter approached them with a tray full of wine filled glasses, and offered the selection to them.  
“Sir and madam,” he greeted them. “Wine?”  
“Yes, thank you.”  
They each took their preferred wine and then made their way further into the gathering in order to do just what had been suggested; they mingled.  
Heyes knew that the eyes of the other guests were upon him, and though it made him feel a little on edge, he put on the fine act of being a gentleman comfortable within his element. He was not fooling his wife.  
“Relax,” she whispered. “They’re just in awe of you.”  
Heyes almost snorted, but remembered his situation and simply smiled. “Perhaps they are in awe of you. You do look lovely tonight.”  
Miranda chuckled. “Fortunately, Bridget knew where to find some evening gowns for ladies in my condition. It’s very discreet, don’t you think?”  
Heyes stepped back and opening admired his wife’s figure. “Very,” he agreed. “One would never know.”  
“Never know what?” came an enquiry from behind him.  
Heyes turned to find himself facing an older man and woman who had snuck up on them. He really was losing his touch when it came to watching his back. What a shame that Jed could not attend this little shindig. If ever he needed his partner’s keen eyes, this would be it.  
“Oh!” Heyes smiled, and the two men shook hands. “Ah, my wife and I were just discussing lady’s fashions.”  
The gentleman’s brows went up in surprise. “Indeed!”  
Heyes chose not to elaborate. “How do you do,” he said. “I’m Hannibal Heyes, and this is my wife, Miranda.”  
“Yes, of course you are,” came the response. “I’m Joseph Waring, and this is my wife, Penelope.”  
“Ma’am,” Heyes greeted her, and the lady almost did a curtsy.   
“How charming to meet you both,” she said, with a beaming smile. “And your dress does look lovely, my dear.”  
“Thank you,” Miranda responded. “And what a lovely gathering this is. Are all the players here?”  
Penelope looked around and nodded. “Yes, I think so. No one makes it every year, but it is a special game this time around isn’t it? How lovely to be invited to the Brown Palace. And it must be very exciting for you, my dear.”  
“Yes,” Miranda agreed, though she noted a touch of snobbery in the comment. “But my husband and I spent the first few days of our honeymoon here. We had the best suite in the hotel and were treated like royalty. Weren’t we, Dear?”  
Heyes grinned. “Yes, we were. And the concert at the Tabor Grand Opera House was well worth the price of the tickets. Have you folks been to the opera house?”  
The Warings appeared a little squeamish. “Ah, no,” Mr. Waring admitted. “We have yet had the pleasure.”  
“It is well worth going,” Miranda told them. “What a magnificent house it is. It almost makes the Brown Palace appear shabby. Anyone who’s anyone, in Denver society, must go, at least once.”  
“Of course,” Mrs. Waring agreed. “We already had plans to attend the opera there, to celebrate Mr. Waring winning the game. He is a much superior player to anyone else here, so of course, he’s going to win.”  
“Oh?” Heyes enquired, politely. “Am I the only new player to attend this year?”   
“Oh, well. Let me see. There was one other new player.” Penelope began to search the mingling groups. “Oh, there he is. The single man over there, with the handlebar moustache.”  
“Ah,” Heyes nodded. “I’ll have to make a point of introducing myself.”  
“By all means,” Mr. Waring encouraged. “I believe everyone here is interested in meeting you, Mr. Heyes. But I think you are incorrect when you state that this is your first time at our poker game. Did you not attend once before? Some years ago now, when it was still at the saloon. And, incognito, as I understand?”  
Heyes smiled, though he felt a twinge of disappointment. He’d hoped that incident had been all forgotten about. After all, there was no one here now, who had been present at that game.  
“I stand corrected,” Heyes admitted. “I’m surprised that you would know about that.”  
Waring laughed. “Oh, we all know about it. We also know that you proved yourself to be an honorable player, even back then. Otherwise, you would never have been invited to join us now. Once a thief, always a thief, as they say.” And he laughed out loud, again.  
Heyes’ polite smile remained on his face, but his eyes darkened ever so slightly. “Never at the poker table, Mr. Waring.”  
“Of course,” Waring agreed. “Come!” he insisted, as he took Heyes by the elbow and led him deeper into the gathering. “It’s time you met the other players. They certainly want to meet you!”  
Heyes reluctantly allowed himself to be escorted away, and while Miranda stood for a moment, feeling left out, it did not last for long. Penelope quickly slipped her arm through Miranda’s, and the ladies followed in the wake of the men.  
Xxx  
Jed sat at a corner table in the saloon, watching the scenery, when he noticed a rather plainly dressed Mr. Finney entering the establishment. Jed sent a wave to him, and Finney nodded and made his way over.  
“Oh dear,” he stated, as he sat down with a heavy sigh. “This is proving more difficult than I imagined.”  
“Oh yeah?” asked Jed. “In what way?”  
“Well, you see, I’m usually the one closing in on my opponent,” the Yard man explained. “I have been on the trail of this man for over a year, and now, here I am, forced to sit on the side-lines.”  
“Yep,” Jed agreed. “It can be tryin’ at times.”  
“Perhaps I should leave a message at the front desk, to have Mr. Heyes contact me once this gathering is over,” Finney mused. “That way he can fill me in on what he has discovered so far.”  
“Nope,” Jed disagreed.  
“Well, how else are we supposed to plan our strategy?” Finney asked, quite reasonably. “We cannot let this man get away from us. Oh, he’s a wily one, indeed. We must not under-estimate him.”  
“Yep,” Jed agreed again. “But you hired Heyes to weed this fella out. Ya’ gotta relax and let him do his job, his way. One thing Heyes don’t like, is someone crowdin’ ‘im while he’s workin’ out a plan. He’ll get in touch with us, if’n he needs to.”  
Finney smiled. “Aye, yes. You do have a point.”  
“For myself,” Jed continued. “I plan on bein’ handy, but not noticed. The Palace is hosting a games night for those of us who can’t afford the big buy-in. There’ll be plenty ‘a fellas there, just hopin’ that some of the money from the big game will rub off on ‘em, just by bein’ in the vicinity. It’s a perfect place for us ta’ be hidin’ in plain sight.”  
“I can see that you are well acquainted with watching your partner’s back.”  
Jed smiled. “Mr. Finney, you have no idea.”  
Xxx  
Once the Heyes’ had been introduced to the other guests, Miranda instinctively knew to separate from her husband in order to allow him to mingle more freely. Men were more likely to speak openly and show their true character, when women were not part of the conversation. It happened naturally anyways, as it usually does in mixed gatherings. The men and women both tend to form their own splinter groups so that they can discuss subjects of interest to them, but not necessarily to the other.  
Still, Heyes appreciated his wife’s intuitive sensibility, and he had no qualms about leaving her to her own devices for the time being. Circling the gathering like a lone shark, he zeroed in on his prey and causally moved in for the kill.  
“Mr. Dickson,” he greeted the only other new-comer to the group. “It seems that we are the two greenhorns when it comes to The Denver Game.”  
Dickson met Heyes’ eyes and nodded as he took a sip of red wine. “It would appear so. Though I understand that you are considered quite a threat at the poker table. It will be an honor to sit down with you.”  
Heyes smiled, as he tried to pick up on any hint of an accent. He could not detect any. But if their quarry was as crafty as Finney suggested, then honing his vernacular to fit any region would hardly be a challenge for him. If the man they were after, was in the game, then Mr. Dickson, as the only other new-comer, was the most likely candidate. Heyes would be watching him.  
“Thank you,” He responded. “Where do you play, normally? If you don’t mind my asking.”  
“Back East, Mr. Heyes. New York.” Dickson informed him. “And yourself? You’re obviously a Western man, but have you played the circuit in any of the larger eastern cities?”  
“No, Mr. Dickson,” Heyes admitted. “I can’t say that I have. I like the West, and really have no desire to leave it. Denver, San Francisco, and even Cheyenne, can offer just as good, if not better poker than anything back East.”  
“How would know, if you’ve never played there?”  
“Word gets around.”  
“I suppose,” Dickson concurred. “Still, I understand that you may be a little rusty in your game. I can’t imagine that prison would offer much of a challenge when it comes to intellectual pursuits.”  
Heyes’ poker face came into play. Dickson was feeling him out for the game ahead, and trying to see how easily he rattled. Just as Heyes was doing to him. Now was not the time to take offense.  
“You might be surprised,” the ex-con informed him. “Perhaps poker was not the game of choice, but keeping your wits about you and understanding your opponent, can often be the only thing keeping you alive. And that’s very much like poker, don’t you agree?”  
“I see your point,” Dickson commented. “I have a feeling that this is going to be a very interesting game.”  
“I do believe you’re right, Mr. Dickson,” Heyes concurred, and he felt his own excitement begin to take hold. “A very interesting game, indeed.”

To Be Continued.


	18. Game On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heyes enters into the biggest game of his life, with a lot more at stake than just the buy-in.
> 
> Jed has his day at the gambling tables, and comes out a winner in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit right up front, that I know next to nothing about poker and blackjack. I did a lot of research just to get a feel for the games, so I hope the story comes off convincingly enough. Enjoy.

Game on

Heyes stood in front of the vanity and struggled with getting his tie just right. Miranda finally got tired of the repeated sighs of frustration, and moved in to assist.  
“Here, let me do it,” she offered, as her fingers undid the most recent failed attempt. “Why are you so nervous? It’s just a poker game.”  
“A poker game that could cost us twenty grand,” Heyes pointed out. “Not to mention the reputation of our young company, even before it really gets started.”  
“I have every faith in you,” she assured him, as she completed the knot. “There. How’s that?”  
She stood back, and they both examined the completed task in the mirror.  
Heyes nodded. “Yes. That’s better. Thank you.  
“Come on,” she said, as she turned back to him and rubbed his arm. “Tell me what you need to relax. And don’t say sex, because we already did that.”  
Heyes chuckled and slipping his arms around her waist, he moved in for a kiss. She accepted the offering, but couldn’t help laughing throughout the process.  
“You scoundrel,” she accused him. “Is that all you can think about?”  
“Oh, so I’m a scoundrel again, am I? And no, it’s not all I can think about, but it is high on the list.”  
He pulled her in close, one hand around her waist and another squeezing her lovely buttock. They had just finished making love, but he felt his arousal taking hold again. The way she was moving her pelvis against him had an uncanny way of focusing his attention. He started to maneuver her towards the ruffled bed, and she laughed as she pushed him away.  
“Hannibal, we don’t have time.”  
“Yes we do,” he insisted.  
“But you’re all dressed, and in your fine suit. You’ll put creases in it.”  
“I can take it off.”  
“Hannibal…”  
Ignoring her mild protesting, he gently pushed her down onto the bed. In no time at all, he had her skirts up around her hips, and with fingers that had been too nervous to tie his own tie, he deftly undid her undergarments and pulled them off her. His nostrils flared at the strong pungent scent of their previous love making and he moved in for a renewed assault.  
“Wait!” Miranda ordered him.  
“What?” Heyes stopped in mid-dive, his expression one of boyish surprise and disappointment.  
“Don’t just undo the buttons on your trousers to let Lil’ Joshua out, remove them altogether!” she insisted. “Otherwise, they’ll get all messed, and everyone at the game will know what you’ve been up to.”  
Heyes’ grin turned wicked. “It might be a good ploy to distract them.”  
“Not at my expense,” she insisted. “Remove them.”  
Heyes’ sigh dripped with exasperation, but he did stand up and deftly remove his trousers. He then stood before her, Lil’ Joshua’s engorged head peeking out from between the two front halves of the shirt tails, awaiting permission to proceed.   
Miranda gave a small gesture with her hand. “Pull your shirt up,” she ordered him.  
With her nether regions in full view, and her sexual scent teasing him, he instantly pulled the tails of his shirt up, and, naked from the breast bone down, he stood for her inspection.  
She smiled. “Okay. Better hurry though, we’re running out of…”  
Heyes was on her in an instant. Not wasting time on foreplay, he spread her legs and plunged into her, full speed ahead. He wasn’t being gentle this time, either; he fucked her, all of his stress and nervous anxiety bursting forth from his loins and passing into her tight embrace. She willingly received him and let him have his way, because even though it did hurt, it felt sooo good.  
He reached his climax quickly and then collapsed down on top of her. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him.  
“Feel better now?” She whispered.  
Heyes groaned in pleasure and nodded, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “But what about you?” he asked her. “You didn’t get anything.”  
Miranda laughed. “Hannibal, I had multiple orgasms half an hour ago. Believe me, I’m fine. This time, it was for you.”  
He smiled. “Alright. If you’re sure.”  
“Yes.”  
“Well, I guess I better get another quick wash and get ready for the game.”   
“Yes.”  
Xxx  
“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Mr. Hardy announced to the gathered group. “If I may have your attention, please.” Casual discussion ceased, and all eyes turned to the host. “It is now five forty-five, pm., and the game is scheduled to begin at six. I realize that you all have been informed of the procedures, but I feel it is important to reiterate the details now, just to be sure that we all understand them. You will not be playing with cash money. Twenty thousand dollars in chips have been placed at each setting on the table. Once the game begins, the doors will be locked and there will be two armed guards standing outside. The only persons permitted to enter will be either myself, or one of the deputies. There will be no alcohol served during the game, and no firearms allowed under any circumstances.   
“If there is any suspicion of cheating or fraud, knock on the door, and the guards and myself will deal with the situation. If any of you are carrying a concealed weapon, I strongly suggest that you relinquish it now. If one is found on you, once you have entered the room, you will instantly be removed from the game, without compensation.”  
‘Oh crap!’ Heyes thought, but then realized that he wasn’t the only one, when, as other players grumbled, they proceeded to unbutton dress jackets, or pull up pant legs. He smiled, and opening up his own jacket, he pulled out a small pistol that had been nicely tucked into a shoulder holster. One of the aforementioned guards came around with a small basket and collected all the firearms.  
“Be rest assured,” Mr. Hardy continued. “Your property will be returned to you after the game. Now, once the game is completed, you will all return the chips to me and I will give you another receipt for the amount in your possession. You will then present that receipt at the bank, and the amount shown will be deposited into your personal accounts that have already been set up for you. From there, you can transfer those funds to any financial institution of your choice. Any questions?”  
“It seems an awful lot of bother,” Mr. Dickson commented. “Why don’t we just play with cash, then when the game is over, it’s over. I don’t like anybody else having control of my money.”  
“I assure you, Mr. Dickson, it is for your own safety,” Hardy responded. “As many of our players realize, this game was robbed some years back. Though the money was fortunately returned, it still made us aware that our security was sadly lacking. We have had this new system in place for a few years now, and it has proven sound. Any other questions?”  
“I just don’t like playing with chips!” Dickson continued to protest. “I want the feel of cold, hard cash in my hands, when I’m placing a bet.”  
“We have been over this before, Mr. Dickson,” Hardy reminded the gentleman. “Though it is late now, you are still welcome to withdraw.”  
“No, no,” Dickson declined, with a heavy sigh. “As foolish as it all is; I’ll play by your rules.”  
“Fine,” Hardy agreed. “Gentlemen, if you please?”  
The double, cherry oak doors opened, and the eight players filed into the room. Just like everything else in the Brown Palace, the poker room was high class. Eight plush, leather arm chairs were placed evenly around the circular, dark mahogany table, and twenty thousand dollars’ worth of various colored chips, were neatly stacked in front of each positon. Ten unopened boxes of cards were displayed in the middle of the table, awaiting the first hand.  
Moving into the room, Heyes kept a close eye on Mr. Dickson. The man complained too much about the security procedures, and if he hadn’t already been high on Heyes’ list of suspects, that would have done it.  
Everyone made their way around the table and chose their place. Some of the gentlemen stretched, others cracked their knuckles, while others straightened their ties and tugged on jackets. Each individual had their way of beginning a game and rituals must be observed. Heyes smiled, stretched out his neck and shoulder muscles, ran his hands through his hair and sat down.  
“Gentlemen,” Hardy announced. “It is now six o’clock. May Lady Luck shine upon you.”  
And with that, he backed out of the room and closed the doors. This act was instantly followed by the sound of the lock turning.  
A silence settled over the group for a moment, but then Mr. Waring, who was sitting to Heyes’ left, pushed himself to his feet.  
“Gentlemen,” he stated. “The game this year is 7 card stud, straights are allowed and Aces are high. As the oldest, and longest attending player of this game, I reserve the right to begin the first hand.” He reached over and collected all the boxed decks to him. “Mr. Pierce,” he said to the gentleman on his left. “will you choose which deck we will begin with?”  
Pierce, a middle-aged dandy, puffed himself up. He came to his feet, chose the deck, and slapped it, with a show of importance, onto the table in front of Mr. Waring.  
“That one,” he stated and then sat back down.  
“Mr. Longstreet,” Waring continued. “Will you removed the rest of the decks from the table, please?”  
“I’d be honored, sir!” And that gentleman proceeded to do just that.  
Heyes sighed. He never was one for rituals and this was getting tiresome.  
Waring opened the chosen deck and threw aside the empty box, as he and Longstreet sat back down again.  
“Mr. Heyes,” Waring continued. “Would you be so kind as to cut the deck.”  
Heyes decided it was best to play along. “Of course, sir,” he stated with a pasted on smile. He accomplished the task and sent an openly condescending look around the table. Inwardly, he felt the reward of having set up his first anti-tell. Those who were not crafty enough to see beyond it, assumed that this was Heyes’ best attempt at a poker face, and made the mistake of assuming that he was transparent and would be easy to read.  
Having accomplished this first smoke screen, Heyes allowed Waring to retrieve the two halves of the cut deck. Instinctively, he watched Waring’s hands, to make sure that he indeed honored the cut. This was a shifty move that he was not soon to forget, and he did not want to get caught flat footed on it again. He was satisfied and the cut was accepted honorably.  
Waring proceeded to shuffle the deck and then smiled at his fellow players. “Gentlemen! The game is on!” And he began to deal out the first hand.  
Xxx  
Miranda entered the café and glanced around at the tables, looking for her companions. The establishment was doing a fair business for supper, and all of the tables were occupied, but it still didn’t take her long to zero in on her cousin-in-law. He spotted her at the same time and sent her a wave.  
“Hello,” she said, as she waved the two gentlemen to remain in their seats. “Good evening, Mr. Finney.”  
“Please, call me Kevin,” Finney requested. “We are all supposed to be good friends, are we not?”  
“Yes, we are,” Miranda agreed, and chuckled. “The way you’re dressed now, you fit right in with the gang.”  
“Hey!” Jed took offence. “Just ‘cause we ain’t in our suits, don’t mean we’re grubby.”  
“True,” Randa accepted. “It’s just that I’ve only seen Mr…Kevin in his suit, so now, seeing him in casual wear seems a bit of a letdown.”  
“I assure you, madam, I will be back into suitable attire, when we attend the gaming room this evening. At the Brown Palace, even the low-end players dress for the occasion,” Finney told her. “But in the meantime, I must play the part.”  
“Of course.” She leaned in and whispered, playfully, “And it’s Miranda. We are old friends, after all.”  
“Aye, yes. Miranda.”  
“How is he doin’?” Jed asked.  
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Keyed up. But I believe that I helped him to relief some of that stress, right before he went down.”  
“Ah, good,” Finney approved. “We can’t have our key player tipping his hand, due to nerves.”  
Jed took note of Miranda’s smile and twinkle, and snorted humorously. “Yeah, I bet.”  
“Interesting,” Finney continued. “I would have thought that Mr. Heyes was far too good a player to have a problem with nerves before a game.”  
“Yeah, but it’s been a while,” Jed pointed out. “The small games at home don’t offer ‘im much in the way ‘a challenges. And like we pointed out to ya’ before, there’s a lot ridin’ on this game. I ain’t surprised that he was nervous.”  
“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “I spent the whole day with Bridget, because he wanted the day alone. To prepare, he said.”  
“Yep,” Jed concurred. “He don’t like ta’ be crowded when he’s gettin’ ready for a job. Whether it’s crackin’ a safe, robbin’ a train, or playin’ poker. I tell ya’, we all learned pretty fast; not ta’ bother Heyes, once he gets ta’ schemin’.”   
The large waitress plowed her way through the standing room only crowd, like a barge pushing through river weeds. Without bothering to ask, she replenished the two coffee cups in front of the gentlemen, and then she turned to the newcomer.  
“Ma’am,” she greeted Randa in a raspy voice that had been on duty all day. “The special for supper today is pot roast. Will that suit?”  
“Oh yes, thank you. That will be fine.”  
“Fine. Coffee?”  
“Tea.”  
The matron of a waitress nodded and quickly headed back to the kitchen. The place had really packed up in the short space of time since Miranda had arrived. They should have seen that coming, what with all the new people in town for the big game. Those not playing, or staying at the Palace, had to eat somewhere, and this seemed to be the place. Patrons were even doubling up with strangers, just to get a place to sit. The manager might even have to send one of the dishwashers over to Anna-Lee’s place and get her to pull a double shift. The tips ought to be good, at least.  
“I walked with him down to the lobby,” Miranda told them, as she picked up the conversation again. “While we were at the top of the stairs, he was still nervous. He insisted on tugging at his tie and running his hands through his hair. And then, it was amazing to see, as we walked down the stairs, his whole mood softened with each step, and a calm professionalism took over. By the time we got to the lobby, he was cool and relaxed. No sign of stress at all. He’s very good at this, isn’t he? This taking on a persona. Like a tiger changing its stripes.”  
Jed grinned in admiration for his cousin. “Yep. He’s a master at it.”  
“You seem to forget that your husband was an accomplished con artist,” Finney reminded her. “It was this ability that made him such. It is also why I hired him to do this job. I have done undercover work myself, but I’m no poker player. He’ll flush out our man, I’m sure.”  
From out of nowhere, a tea service on a tray landed on the table beside Miranda. She glanced up to thank the waitress, but that woman was already on the other side of the room, tending to the orders of new customers. Randa glanced around at the now filled to bursting café, and took note that there were even people lining up at the front door. The flowing conversations were loud and animated, giving the place the atmosphere of a bawdy house more than a family café.  
“Well,” Randa commented. “I don’t suppose we need to worry about being over-heard in here.”  
“That’s why I suggested it,” Jed told her. “I figured it would be busy tonight. And we’re just another bunch ‘a people in town to support one of the players.”  
“Aye, yes,” Finney agreed. “Again, hide in plain sight.  
“Yeah,” Jed concurred. “Which is exactly what we’re gonna be doin’ after supper. Them low anti games’ll be hoppin’ tonight.”  
“Aye,” Finney agreed. “I’m not much at the games, I’m afraid. But I shall remain inconspicuous, just to keep my eye on the situation.”  
“Uh huh,” Jed responded. “Did ya’ get a look at them two deputies who will be guardin’ the poker room for the night? I strongly suggest that ya’ don’t go nowhere’s near those doors for the duration.”  
“I have no intentions of doing that, Mr. Curry,” Finney assured him. “No, indeed. Sometimes discretion is the best, and wisest course of action.”  
“I didn’t see them,” Miranda admitted. “Are they intimidating?”   
“Let’s just say,” Jed explained, “that one of ‘im alone, would block out the sun, at high noon, on a cloudless day.”  
“Oh.”  
Three plates of pot roast dinners clattered onto the table, quickly followed by three sets of cutlery.  
“There you go, folks,” the waitress announced. “Enjoy.”  
“Yes!” Miranda responded. “Thank…you…” She trailed off as she found herself speaking to the broad retreating back of the busy woman. “Oh my. She’s actually balancing four more plates on her arms, as well as our three. I don’t think I could be a waitress.”  
“Just wait until ya’ got an infant at home,” Jed told her. “I don’t know how Beth does it, but she always seems to have four or five different things goin’ on at once. And managin’ ‘em all, quite nicely.”  
“Oh my,” Randa repeated, with a sigh. “Hopefully Sally will help out. How about you, Kevin? Do you have children?”  
“Ah, regretfully, I never married,” Finney informed her. “I’m often away from home for extended periods of time, and that does make it difficult to maintain such an intimate relationship.”  
“Yes, I suppose it does,” Randa concurred. “Well, perhaps one day.”  
“Aye, perhaps.”  
“What are your plans for the rest of the evening?” Jed asked Randa. “Ya gonna spend it with Bridget?”  
“No,” Randa informed him. “Apparently there is a little gathering being put on for the wives of the players. Just tea and dessert, and of course, gossip. I thought that might be fun. After that, I expect I shall retire to our room and sleep the night away. I will look forward to hearing all about the game and its aftermath, in the morning.”  
“Hmm,” Finney contemplated. “Do be careful what you say at this gathering. We don’t know if our man has a woman accomplice or not. And yet, at the same time, if you could keep your ears open for anything that might sound suspicious. It does seem that when people, both men and women, get into a social setting, they often relax and let things slip.”  
“I’m no undercover agent,” Randa told him, with a smile. “but I shall do my part. I certainly know where I will be able to find you two.”  
“Yep,” Jed agreed. “I am looking forward to a night of friendly poker, and whatever else takes my fancy. Ah, I mean, like Roulette or Blackjack. You know. Not…”  
Miranda laughed. “Yes Jed, I know what you mean.”  
Xxx  
Heyes checked his next down card and felt a twinge of disappointment, though he certainly didn’t let that show on his face. The cards were not running well for him this evening, but the night was still young, and the pot still relatively small, so he wasn’t going to despair yet. He glanced at the pot and contemplated his decision.  
“I will begin the betting on this round, with $100 into the pot,” Waring announced.   
Heyes tried not to hold a grudge against Waring for his rather tactless comments from the previous evening. He was a large, and somewhat boisterous man, who, like Mac’s friend, Mr. Peterson, would often say things without thinking. On the other hand, it may have been Waring’s attempt at intimidating a man who was known to be a worthy adversary. Hit Heyes with his past, and put him at a disadvantage and the ex-outlaw just might fold under pressure.  
It was all part of the psychological aspects of high stakes poker, and Heyes couldn’t hold it against the man for trying. He, himself, knew that simply by his reputation, he was having an effect upon the other players. At the social the night before, the other guests greeted him and Miranda politely enough, but where one or two latched onto him, treating him as though he were a long lost buddy, others avoided him.   
He knew what his advantages were, and he intended to play them to the hilt, so he could hardly blame Mr. Waring for attempting the same strategy. Time would tell how good a player he was.   
Completely unaware of the scrutiny he was under, Waring continued on with controlling the game. “Mr. Pierce? How would you like to bet?”   
Pierce played with his chips and thought about his next move. Finally, he made up his mind.  
“I’ll meet the bet.”  
Now there was a piece of work, Heyes thought. A real dandy, dressed to the nines, with gold rings and watch chain, and pearl inlaid cufflinks. His dark black hair was shiny with grease and slicked back, giving it the appearance of being painted onto his skull, rather than actual hair growing from it. His black moustache and goatee were also greased and trimmed to perfection giving him the appearance of a dastardly villain in a dime novel, rather than the strived for look of an accomplished gambler. Heyes was not impressed with his appearance, nor his ability at the poker table.  
Waring nodded in acceptance of Pierce’s bet. “One hundred dollars, from Mr. Pierce. Mr. Dickson?”  
Heyes’ eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Was this the man they were looking for? He hadn’t given anything away if he was. The only hint of an accent in his speech, was of the eastern part of the country, and since Dickson had already admitted to being from New York, this could hardly be held against him.   
Or did he claim to be from the East, because he knew that he would not be able to fool actual westerners with his attempt at the western accent? That could also make sense. Don’t even try to mimic the accent of the group you need to fit into. Admit right from the get go, that you are new to the area, and no one is likely to question subtle differences in speech and behavioral patterns.  
Dickson had put up quite a fuss about the payout system though. Heyes found that interesting. Most players would appreciate the added security of no actual cash changing hands. Money would go directly from the hotel safe, to the various accounts at the bank. It was a good way to handle large amounts of money changing hands. But apparently Dickson hadn’t thought so. Was that disrupting his plans for a get-away? Or was it simply what he claimed? That he liked the feel of real money in his fingertips when he made a bet. Heyes could also relate to that.  
“Same,” Dickson responded to Waring’s inquirery, and placed his own bet.  
“Mr. Longstreet?”  
Now, here was a real gambling man. Heyes liked him. He was confident at the poker table, not arrogant like Hargitt, or flashy like Pierce. And he knew how to play poker. He spoke with a slight southern twang, which could of course, be a way for covering up an English one, but Heyes didn’t think so. He sounded too much like Kenny did, when he got excited and allowed his southern roots to show, for it to be an act.   
Heyes pretty much checked him off the list as a suspect, but not as a competent adversary in the game. Heyes might be here, undercover, to catch a criminal. But he was also here to win.  
“$100 and I’ll raise it, $50,” Longstreet announced.  
All eyes then travelled to Mr. Wyles. He smiled and then shrugged.   
“I’ll fold.”  
Heyes almost snorted, but he contained himself. Wyles did not strike Heyes as any kind of a poker player at all. He reeked of old money, and had a sense of how the game was played, but he had no backbone. For that disadvantage to make itself apparent, this early in the game, was not a good sign. At least, not for the player himself. It was great for the others, as it gave them the advantage of knowing that Mr. Wyles would likely fold under pressure and begin announcing his tells once the pot got big.  
“Mr. Bates?”  
Bates ran the chips through his fingers and Heyes inwardly sighed. For professional gamblers, some of these players were wearing their thoughts on their sleeves. But then, not all of them were professionals. Just like at Mac’s annual game, some of these fellas were simply too rich to know what to do with all their money. Being in as prestigious a game as this one was more of an ego boost than it was a challenge of intellect or ability.   
Mr. Bates was a typical wealthy man who was pretending to be a risk taker.  
“I’ll meet the bet,” he said, and deposited the appropriate amount of chips into the pot.  
“Mr. Hargitt?”  
Now Hargitt was a man whom Heyes hadn’t quite figured out yet. He was professional enough to know how to hide his tells, but he didn’t seem to know how to bet. So far, he’d lost the most by betting big, when he should have folded, or at least just meet the current bet. But he liked to show off and flash his money around. Was it simple arrogance that had him doing this, or was he setting up a pattern to put the other players off their guard?  
Heyes was keeping an eye on him.  
“I’ll meet the current bet,” Hargitt announced with a flourish. “And raise it another $50.”  
Heyes groaned, inwardly. He was doing it again.  
“Fine,” Waring acknowledged. “Mr. Heyes?”  
“I’ll fold,” Heyes said, as he laid down his cards.  
“Oh dear,” Hargitt commented. “Again? Lady Luck not showing you her charms tonight, Mr. Heyes.”  
Heyes smiled. “Not yet, Mr. Hargitt. But the evening is young.”  
“So it is!”  
Xxx  
After dinner, Miranda separated from the men, and they all retired to their separate abodes in order to dress appropriately for the evening. She approached the front desk and noted that now, indeed, the safe did have a burley guard in front of it. The shotgun was most impressive.  
“Good evening, Mrs. Heyes,” the attendant greeted her. “May I be of assistance?”  
“Yes,” Miranda stated. “Where is the lady’s evening tea taking place?”  
“Oh, yes ma’am. Up on the third floor. In the party room,” the clerk informed her. “Shelton can show you the way.”  
The bellboy quickly stepped forward to assist.  
“Oh no,” Miranda stopped him in his tracks. “That’s quite alright. I know where it is. And I need to freshen up, before I go. Thank you.”  
“Oh, of course. Have a pleasant evening, ma’am.”  
Miranda returned to their room and quickly accomplished a minor toilette. She changed back into her evening dress from the day before, freshened up her hair and features, and declared herself ready to meet the opposition. She really had no idea what to expect from the other ladies of the troop, but she hoped that it would be an interesting evening, in any case. She was well acquainted with these society dos’ and knew that they could be extremely political. She hadn’t needed Mr. Finney to caution her to be careful; she’d had plenty of practice at guarding her interests, while married to Willian.  
With one final look in the mirror, she deemed herself to be ready for the adventure. One final tuck of a stray lock, and she was out the door to engage in her own brand of sparing.  
As she entered the café on the third floor, she was again awed by the plush extravagance of even this small setting. Of course, it wasn’t quite on the same level as the restaurant on the top floor, but it did equal its quality with the open lounge on the first floor. The owners had spared no expense in making this one of the finest hotels in the West.   
She stopped at the open double doors and surveyed the interior, seeking out some familiar faces. It didn’t take long before high spirited laughter caught her attention, and she spotted four ladies sitting in a lounging area over by a large window. She took a deep breath of fortification, and prepared for battle.  
“May I help you, ma’am?”  
“Oh, no thank you,” Miranda told the host, who had come up on her unexpectedly. “I’m with the party over by the windows.”  
The host followed her gesture and then smiled knowingly, as he recognized the poker wives.  
“Of course,” he said. “Allow me to escort you.”  
Miranda smiled and nodded, not really wanting an escort simply to walk across the room, but knowing that the man was only doing his job. And expecting a tip.  
Upon nearing the table, a number of the ladies looked up and saw her coming towards them. Smiles and waves were sent her way, as the host presented her to the group.  
“Miranda, how lovely to see you again,” Mrs. Waring greeted her. “When we didn’t see you in the restaurant for dinner, I feared that you would not be joining us this evening.”  
“On the contrary,” Miranda assured her. “I’ve very much looked forward to this. How are you all?”  
“Oh!” Mrs. Wyles declared. “I am always so nervous, the night of a big game. I don’t know why Mr. Wyles continues to come every year; he never wins!”  
“Yes,” Miranda observed. “You would think that would be a deterrent.”  
The other ladies politely laughed, as Miranda sat down in one of the plush arm chairs that encircled the low glass table that was laden with delicate pastries and fruit.  
“What would madam like to drink?” the host asked her.  
Miranda did a quick look around the table and found that all the ladies were indulging in white wine. Tea did not seem to be the favored beverage for gamblers’ wives.  
“I’ll have a glass of your preferred white,” she stated. “I think its crispness would go lovely with the fresh fruit.”  
“Indeed,” the host agreed and smiled at the compliment. “I’ll have the waiter bring you a glass. Would anyone else like another glass?”  
“Oh, yes please,” Mrs. Bates accepted.   
“The more the better!” Mrs. Wyles declared. “I need something to settle my nerves. We’re going to wind up losing my families estates, if he’s not careful!”  
“Shall I have the waiter bring the bottle over?” the host hopefully suggested. “Perhaps that would be easier.”  
“Capital idea!” Mrs. Wyles agreed and nearly up-ended her emptied glass as she set it back on the table.  
Miranda allowed her gaze to drift out the window, in search of something more appealing to look upon, but alas, night had fallen. All there was to see was darkness where the mountains were, and the lights from the streets below.  
“We don’t seem to be all here,” Miranda noticed. “Are the other ladies not coming?”  
“Mrs. Longstreet should be along,” Mrs. Hargitt commented. “And since Mr. Dickson, nor Mr. Pierce are married, that should account for all of us.”  
“Where did you dine this evening, Miranda?” Mrs. Waring enquired. “Surely you could not have found a more pleasant establishment than the restaurant right here at the hotel.”  
“I’m sure,” Randa agreed. “But I met with my cousin for dinner, along with a mutual friend of his and my husband’s. We had a pleasant enough time.”  
“Oh, good gracious!” Mrs. Waring complained. “You are a guest at the hotel! Why did you not invite your friends to join us here? I can’t imagine a meal anywhere else, being half as divine.”  
Miranda smiled, knowing that she couldn’t tell them that she and her friends had preferred the privacy of the lower-end establishment.  
“I’m afraid that my friends are not comfortable in such grandiose surroundings,” she informed them, sheepishly. “Being far more accustomed to gambling houses and cafes instead.”  
“Oh.” Mrs. Waring seemed taken aback.   
“Good evening, everyone!” Mrs. Longstreet hailed them, as she zeroed in on their table. “So sorry, I’m late. It takes so much longer to get into this gown without my servant girl here to help me!”  
Mrs. Wyles and Mrs. Bates both raised a brow at her.  
“Oh, my dear!” Mrs. Hargitt professed. “I can’t imagine leaving my girl at home! However did you manage?”  
Mrs. Longstreet smiled knowingly. She’d had no problems getting into her gown, but it was always fun to provoke the other ladies into an uproar.   
“It was quite the feat,” she stated. “Thank goodness the scullery maid was on hand.”  
“At least they’re good for something,” Hargitt announced. “But really! How degrading for you. I hope you didn’t tip the peasant. I dare say, they get paid well enough, if they are fortunate enough to be working here.”  
“We must tip something,” Mrs. Longstreet continued with her tease. “In order to keep up appearances, you understand.”  
“Yes, I suppose you have a point,” Mrs. Hargitt conceded. “Still…”  
“Speaking of keeping up appearances,” Mrs. Waring commented innocently. “I notice that you’re wearing the same gown you were wearing last night, Mrs. Heyes. Are your other gowns too difficult to don on your own?”  
Miranda smiled, patiently. “On the contrary, Mrs. Waring, this is my only evening gown that still fits me. As you know, my husband and I have just now returned from our long over-due honeymoon, and I’m afraid that I didn’t have the foresight to pack anything with an expanding waist.”  
“Oh, ho ho,” Mrs. Hargitt twittered. “Too much rich eating while on vacation? You must be careful, Mrs. Heyes. When a man marries a trim figure, he expects it to remain so. You don’t want to gain inches and lose a husband.”  
Mrs. Longstreet, along with Miranda, looked at Mrs. Hargitt with some surprise.  
“I believe, what Mrs. Heyes is referring to,” Mrs. Longstreet discreetly explained. “is the reality of her wifely condition. I suspect there will be a new little addition to your family soon?”  
Mrs. Hargitt turned red in embarrassment over her misconception.  
Miranda smiled broadly and confirmed the inquiry. “Yes. We expect, later this winter.”  
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mrs. Wyles exclaimed. “How marvelous! I assume this will be your first, of course.”  
“In a sense,” Randa concurred. “But we adopted a daughter right after we married, so in actuality, this one will be our second.”  
“Indeed.” Mrs. Hargitt’s brow went up in judgement. “Adopted. I can’t imagin…”  
“That’s wonderful,” Mrs. Longstreet stated. “How very generous of you and your husband.”  
“She’s a wonderful child,” Miranda gushed, with motherly pride. “We love her to pieces.”  
“How unusual,” Mrs. Bates commented. “I can understand a woman bonding with someone else’s child, but a man? How much convincing do you have to do, to get your husband to agree?”  
“It was actually the other way around,” Randa informed her. “Sally was a child with whom he was already acquainted, and he was the one who insisted. It didn’t take much convincing though; I knew she was special the moment I met her, and she’s just as much our child, as this new one will be.”  
“Well,” Mrs. Bates conceded. “I would never have thought.”  
The waiter then arrived with a chilled bottle of their finest Viognier and discreetly made the rounds of the table to top up the glasses. A fresh, chilled glass was set down in front of Miranda, and promptly filled.  
“Madam?” he asked Mrs. Longstreet. “Will you be drinking wine tonight, or would you prefer something else?”  
“Wine would be lovely,” she stated. “Thank you.”  
Another chilled glass appeared from out of nowhere, and was placed on the table in front of the new arrival. It was promptly filled.  
“Ladies,” the waiter addressed them all. “I shall attend to you this evening. And please, enjoy the fruit and pastries. Compliments of the house.” And he took his leave.  
“I should think they would be complimentary,” Mrs. Wyles sniped as she popped a chocolate dipped strawberry into her mouth. “With the prices we pay for the room, we ought to get something out of it!”  
“So,” Mrs. Hargitt intervened. “Are we going to place our usual bet on who’s going to win the biggest pot this year?”  
“I suppose so,” Mrs. Wyles whined. “I certainly won’t be betting on my husband. We lose enough money at this event.”  
“I can’t blame you there,” Mrs. Longstreet commented. “Who do you think will be the winning horse, then?”  
“Most likely, Mr. Waring,” Mrs. Wyles presumed.   
“Yes!” Mrs. Waring whole-heartedly agreed. “My husband has won this game for the last three years running. I think that is a wise bet, Mrs. Wyles.”  
“I don’t know,” Mrs. Longstreet mused. “We do have two new players this year. One of them might surprise us!”  
“Oh please!” Mrs. Waring argued. “An Easterner and a convict? Hardly competition for a true master of the game.” She suddenly remembered whose company she was keeping, and smiled at Miranda. “Oh! Nothing personal my dear. I’m sure your husband is at the top of his game, within his own circles.”  
Miranda smiled pleasantly. “None taken, Mrs. Waring. I completely understand your ignorance on the matter. After all, why would a lady of your refinement concern yourself with the exploits of a lowly ex-outlaw.”  
“Exactly!” Mrs. Waring agreed. “You are a very wise and open-minded young woman. But then, I suppose you would have to be, wouldn’t you?”  
“Really?” Miranda asked. “What do you mean?”  
“Well!” Mrs. Waring continued, as she sent a knowing smile around the table. All eyes were upon her, eagerly anticipating the inevitable conversation. “You would have to be, wouldn’t you? To have married such a man as Mr. Heyes. I must admit, I was surprised by your obvious refinement and intelligence. When my husband informed me that Mr. Heyes and his wife would be joining us, I pictured a woman somewhat more—bawdy.”  
Some minor gasps of surprise, followed by quiet tittering of laughter followed this statement.  
“That was hardly becoming, Mrs. Waring!” Mrs. Longstreet commented. “Mr. Heyes himself seems quite the gentleman.”  
“I also understand that he is quite the conman,” Mrs. Waring continued. “Perhaps that is his strong point.”  
“You may find that my husband has many strong points,” Miranda responded. “I would not have married him, if I were not confident of this.”  
“Yes indeed!” Mrs. Bates agreed, and she sat forward, eyes all alight with curiosity. “You must tell us, Mrs. Heyes. What kind of a husband is he, really? What would entice you to take such a chance on someone with his history?”  
Miranda smiled and relaxed, sensing the difference between honest curiosity and rude condescension.   
“I must admit, no one was more surprised than myself,” Miranda explained. “But from the moment I first met him, I sensed more to his character than what was generally assumed. He and his cousin have over-come great adversity in their lives. They made bad choices at a time when they were too young to understand the consequences, and yet they have both managed to turn things around. Hannibal is a fine man, and a fine husband. I couldn’t have asked for better.”  
Mrs. Waring cocked a brow and almost smirked. “Are you sure that a pair of chocolate brown eyes, and a dimpled smile had nothing to do with your infatuation?”  
Miranda laughed. “Believe me, Mrs. Waring, the first time I met Hannibal, he looked nothing at all like he does today. Prison was extremely hard on him, and it showed. No. I fell in love with his spirit and his soul, not his appearance. Though I would be lying, if I said that I was not pleased with his physical transformation.”  
Appreciative laughter followed this statement.  
“He is, indeed, a handsome man,” Mrs. Longstreet agreed. “I’m sure he turns a lot of heads.”  
“Still,” Mrs. Waring put in, not willing to be out-done. “Handsome is as handsome does. I still wonder if men of that character can ever really settle down to married life.”  
“Who wants married life to be settled?” Miranda asked, playfully. “Hannibal is a wonderful husband and father. But there is certainly something to be said about being married to a man who still has a bit of the rogue to him. Life with him is never boring.”  
This was followed by whoops of laughter and a summons to their waiter, for more wine.  
“Well,” Miranda continued, after the waiter had departed. “We’ve discussed one of the new players, what about the other? What do you all think of Mr. Dickson?”  
Disappointed silence followed this question. The majority of the ladies would have been quite happy to continue discussing those attributes to being married to an ex-outlaw.  
“He is a non-contender,” Mrs. Waring snarked, feeling slighted at having the tide of opinions turn against her. “An Easterner of no consequence.”  
“But how would you know that?” Mrs. Longstreet queried. “We know nothing of his background, nor of his ability at the table.”  
“Exactly!” Mrs. Waring pointed out. “If he had any ability at all, we would have heard of him. But nothing! I can’t imagine how he even got invited to the game!”  
“There must be some background on him,” Mrs. Hargitt insisted. “We don’t hear very much about the eastern players. Perhaps he knows somebody, who knows somebody, who knows of his abilities back there. He may be a fine player, and a contender.”  
“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “If you are unaware of a person’s history, it is best to over-estimate their ability rather than under-estimate. He may be better qualified to be here, than you imagine.”  
“I doubt it,” Mrs. Waring countered. “I will bet on my husband to win—again.”  
“Yes,” Mrs. Bates agreed. “I will also bet on Mr. Waring.”  
“Myself, as well,” Mrs. Wyles concurred. “He has won the last three games in a row. I think it’s safest to go with the proven horse, rather than risk it all on two new-comers.”  
“You all have valid points,” Mrs. Longstreet admitted. “But I will bet on my husband. More familiarity with his main opponent now, could give him the edge.”  
“What of Mr. Pierce?” Randa asked. “Is he not worthy of consideration?”  
All the ladies snorted.  
“Poor Mr. Pierce,” Mrs. Longstreet mused. “He fancies himself a professional gambler, and a ladies’ man, but I’m afraid that he is neither. He does well enough to live the high life, and to buy himself feminine company while he’s here, but I doubt that he ever comes out ahead.”  
“Oh dear,” Randa sympathized. “Well, I will certainly be betting on Hannibal to win. But it will be interesting to see what abilities Mr. Dickson shows, since nobody here seems to know anything about him.”  
“A dark horse, indeed,” Mrs. Hargitt commented. “I’m sure he will fade to a lighter color by the end of the evening.”  
“I’m sure you’re right, Mrs. Hargitt,” Mrs. Wyles agreed.   
“Now that that’s settled,” Mrs. Bates interjected. “Let’s get on to what we all really want to talk about. Come, Mrs. Heyes; let’s cut to the chase. I want details.”  
“Oh yes!” Mrs. Wyles approved. “Let’s face it, the man was in prison for how many years? And then he meets you! I get goose bumps, just thinking about it!”  
Excited giggling took over three of the ladies. Mrs. Waring looked irritated, and Mrs. Longstreet simply sent Miranda a knowing smile. She wasn’t going to get out of this one.  
Miranda sighed. The last thing these ladies wanted to hear, was the truth. They wanted stories of a lustful, virile outlaw, who had been deprived of sex for so long that he was likely to ravage the first woman who came within striking distance. The fact that Hannibal had been so traumatized by his experiences in prison, that, for a time, he wasn’t even capable of the sex act, was not what bored and lonely women fantasied about. It certainly wasn’t what they wanted to hear now.  
Miranda put on a brave face and smiled at her audience.   
“Well,” she began. “The first time he touched me…”  
Xxx  
Jed entered the Brown Palace and stopped in the lobby to do a quick assessment of the area. Down the hall, he could see the two goons guarding the doors to the poker room. One of them noticed his arrival and gave him a quick scrutiny before deciding that, for the time being at least, he was not a threat. He said something to his companion, who also glanced towards the Kid, and then both men returned to guard mode.  
Jed smiled to himself. He had come prepared to keep his own eye on that door, just in case of trouble, but one look at those formidable guards, and he was satisfied that the room was secure. He nodded at the clerk at the check-in desk and made his way towards the open lounging area that had been converted into a gambling hall for the evening.  
The mood within the area was jovial, but not raucous. This was an evening for gentlemen, not cowboys. Even though the games here were not of the high-stakes nature of the main event, they were expensive enough, with a $20.00 buy-in for all of the games represented. Formal suits were not required, but neat and casual was expected. Jed had judged the situation correctly and was comfortable in his white shirt with a string tie and gray trousers. Some of the men openly wore their gun belts, Jed included, but many opted for the more discreet shoulder or ankle holster. Jed doubted that there was a single man here who was not armed in some way.   
He casually strolled through the lounge, checking out all the games and deciding which one he wanted to join in on first. He spotted Finney across the room, and the two men acknowledged one another, then the Yard man disappeared. Jed smiled to himself. Finney was just as talented at fading into the background as he and Heyes were, when they wanted to. Obviously, the detective was working and wished to remain anonymous. Jed was happy to oblige.   
Blackjack, roulette, and poker were all offered up for entertainment, and Jed looked them each over until he finally decided on one of the poker games. He waited until the current hand was done playing, and approached the table.  
“Evenin’,” he greeted the players. “Room for one more?”  
“Sure,” came back the unanimous response. “Pull up a chair, join in.”  
“Thanks.”  
“I’m Tom,” the first player introduced himself. “This here is Ethan, then Nobel, next to him is Brian, and then Joe.”  
“Howdy. I’m Jed.”  
“Okay,” said Brian. “The game is Stud, and the anti is $20.00.”  
“Yep,” Jed agreed as he dipped into his inside shirt pocket. “$20.00. Let’s play.”  
Xxx  
“$200.00 to meet the pot, and I raise another $300.” Waring announced.  
Heyes thought about his hand and whether or not it was worth the risk. He watched as the other players all made their bids and was glad to have the extra time to make his own decision. Dickson met the pot, as did Pierce. Longstreet met it and raised another $100. Hargitt met that and raised it another $150. Predictably, Wyles folded. Heyes wondered again, why he even bothered to come to these games, year after year. The man did not know how to play to win. Then Heyes nearly cringed, as Bates met the pot and raised it himself, another $50. He then smiled smugly, as though he knew that he had the winning hand. Heyes knew that he did not.  
Then all eyes were on Heyes, waiting for him to decide.  
Heyes smiled, then shook his head. “Too rich for this hand. I fold.”  
Bates snorted derisively and Pierce smiled like a snake in the grass, both men mistakenly assuming that Heyes’ reputation as a poker player far exceeded his actual ability.  
Everyone looked to Waring again, and he did not disappoint.  
“I’ll meet the current bid and raise it $100.”  
The betting carried on like this for another round, which then left only Waring and Pierce still holding the game.  
Waring made his bet and the pressure was on Pierce to decide what he was going to do. The pot was substantial, but not as big as it was likely to get before the night was done. Pierce debated, stroking his moustache as dollar signs danced before his eyes. Finally, he made his choice.  
“I’ll meet your bet, and raise you another $50.”  
Waring smiled. “$50, and call.”  
Everyone leaned forward, as both men placed their cards down on the table. Heyes smiled. He was glad he had folded.  
Pierce cursed as Waring raked in the chips to join his ever growing pile.  
“Damn you,” Pierce grumbled. “There ought to be a limit as to how many times the same player can win this game, year after year.”  
Waring chuckled. “Nobody says you have to keep coming back, year after year.”  
“I had hoped, that with two new players this year, things might get a little more interesting,” Pierce commented. “Unfortunately, neither one of them seems to be showing much gusto.”  
“Don’t count me out yet, Mr. Pierce,” Dickson snapped back. “It’s not always the horse leading the pack that wins the race. Of course, you Westerners probably don’t realize that, since all you race out here are those rangy cow horses that can’t run more than a quarter of a mile. Come back East and watch a real horse race, and maybe, you’ll understand what I’m talking about.”  
“I have been back East, Mr. Dickson,” Pierce countered. “I’ve bet on many a thoroughbred, and played in a number of high stakes games. Funny thing is, I don’t seem to recall your name ever showing up on the roster. Yet you claim to be quite familiar with the games back there.”  
“Perhaps I play in a different league than you,” Dickson returned with a sneer. “You may feel more at ease, playing on the same level as Mr. Heyes, here. I suspect that prison poker is more your speed.”  
“Gentlemen, please!” Waring interjected, before things got out of hand. “The night is still young. Plenty of opportunity for anyone to take home the big pot. Mr. Heyes, if you would be so kind as to deal this next hand.”  
“Yes, of course, Mr. Waring,” Heyes agreed, as his mistrust for Dickson grew. “That is certainly one talent I was able to bring out of prison with me.”  
“Yes, quite,” Waring commented, again attempting to calm the waters. “Let’s continue, shall we?”  
Heyes nodded, and taking the deck, he passed them over to Mr. Bates. Bates cut the deck three times, and handed them back. Heyes shuffled them, and still keeping his eyes on Dickson, began to deal out the cards.  
“Are you sure that the deck is complete, Mr. Heyes?” Dickson asked him. “Not one short, by any chance?”  
“I assure you,” Heyes responded as he finished dealing the first round. “That the deck is complete.”  
“How can you assure us of that, without counting them?”  
“I know when a deck is short, Mr. Dickson,” Heyes assured him. “I can feel it.”  
Dickson snorted. “Surely you can’t tell just by the feel of a deck, if it is one card short!”  
“Surely I can,” Heyes returned. “And if you were half the poker player you claim to be, you would be able to do so, as well.”  
“I must admit,” Hargitt spoke up before Dickson could respond. “I tend to agree with Mr. Dickson. You do have the reputation as a card sharp, Mr. Heyes. Not to mention, a safe cracker, and, of course, a thief. How can we be sure that you did not slither your way into this game, in order to steal from us?”  
Mr. Waring puffed himself up in preparation for an explosion. “Mr. Hargitt…!”  
Heyes raised a hand. “It’s quite alright, Mr. Waring,” he assured their host. “I’m sure that Mr. Hargitt is not the only man here who has concerns on that matter.” He looked around at the other players, and aside from Longstreet, none of them could meet his eye. Heyes smiled sadly. “That’s what I thought. Let me assure you all, here and now, I have a lot riding on my intention and ability to stay law abiding. I have a lovely wife, a growing family and an honest livelihood. I did my time in prison, and I have no desire to end up back there again.”  
“Yes,” Hargitt laughed. “Five years of a 20-year sentence. Hardly what I would call ‘doing time’. Seems to me you got off easy, and now you think you can simply coast through life. Marrying a wealthy widow, didn’t hurt.”  
Heyes felt the muscle in his neck twitch, but all he presented to the players was an indulgent smile.   
“You may consider five years in the Wyoming Territorial as easy time, Mr. Hargitt, but I assure you, it was not,” he said. “As for my wife, I warn you not to go there. She is a fine woman, and I will abide no disrespect.”  
“Indeed,” Mr. Longstreet interjected. “We have all met Mrs. Heyes. She did not strike me as a woman who could be easily duped into a marriage by some fortune-hunting scoundrel. As for your insinuation that Mr. Heyes is cheating, I have yet to see any evidence of that.”  
“I believe that is the whole point of being successful at cheating,” Dickson stated. “I understand that Mr. Heyes is a master at deception. Of course we would not see it.”  
Heyes smiled dangerously. He really was hoping that Dickson would turn out to be their man. “Poker is a game of deception, is it not, Mr. Dickson? And I don’t need to cheat in order to win.”  
“I don’t notice you winning much here, so far,” Dickson pointed out.  
“Then there is hardly any point in accusing me of cheating!” Heyes responded, his patience finally coming to an end.  
“Mr. Heyes is correct!” Waring cut in. “Enough of this bickering. Mr. Heyes was invited to join this game because of his ability as a player, just as all of you were. Unless any of you see any indication of cheating, I don’t want to hear any more about it. And that goes for any comments concerning Mrs. Heyes, as well. The next hand has been dealt. Let us begin!”  
“Here, here!” Mr. Bates agreed.  
As luck would have it, Heyes found himself with a very promising hand for this round. Now, he had a problem. He was the dealer, this time around, and now is when he gets a good hand? If anything was going to encourage accusations of cheating, that would. Should he let the hand go, in order to keep the peace, or appearances be damned and play to the hilt?  
It didn’t take him long to decide. The gambler in him could not let a good hand go. He played to win, and this time around, he did. Predictably, Mr. Dickson snorted his opinion.  
“Mr. Dickson!” Waring exclaimed. “Your attitude is beyond acceptable. The only reason I can think of for you to be continuing with this nonsense, is that you feel intimidated by Mr. Heyes’ ability and that you wish to discredit him before he has the chance to prove himself. I, for one, am pleased to have Mr. Heyes with us, this year. Even if it does mean losing my winning streak. The group was becoming stagnant, with the same players over and over again, every year. Some new blood, especially some that offers us a challenge, can only make the game more exciting, and take the level of play up to a new level. I will not tolerate one man ruining the evening for the rest of us. Especially one who is also new to this game. One more outburst like this, and you will be excused, with no compensation. Do you understand, Mr. Dickson?”  
Dickson paled considerably throughout this onslaught.  
“Yes, of course, Mr. Waring,” he humbly conceded. “My apologies. And to you as well, Mr. Heyes. My apologies for my rudeness.”  
The two men locked eyes, and Heyes saw nothing of contrition in Dickson’s manner. He smiled, none the less, and nodded his acceptance. If Dickson was his man, he did not want to alienate him, and he certainly did not want him leaving the game.  
“Good!” Waring also accepted that the matter was truly closed. “Now, I suggest that we take a half hour break. It’s one a.m., and I’m sure that we could all use a stretch of the legs.”  
“Oh, thank goodness,” Bates commented. “I need the privy, and then a good solid drink after that. Some more of those tasty sandwiches wouldn’t be unwelcomed either.”  
“I’m sure there will be more coming in,” Waring assured the party. He stood up and walked around to the double doors and gave them a solid rapping. They opened, and one of the armed deputies poked his head in. “It’s time for a break, Deputy. We’re coming out.”  
“Yessir,” the deputy acknowledged, and came into the room. “I will remain in here while you leave, and make sure than none of the chips leave as well.”  
“Very wise, Deputy,” Waring agreed. “Gentlemen, if you would please file out, one at a time, and keep your hands away from the chips, thank you.”  
Heyes scraped his chair back, and standing up, he stretched out his back and shoulders. He hadn’t realized how cramped up he was getting, until the opportunity came to move. He had to stop letting Dickson and Hargitt get to him. Hargitt, he could understand; he was testing the waters. But Dickson was another matter. He wasn’t sure what was going on there.  
Stepping out into the hallway, Heyes began to make his way towards the impromptu gambling hall, when he spied the Kid already coming towards him.  
“Hey, Heyes,” Jed greeted him, as they met half way. “How’s it goin’?”  
“Not good,” Heyes admitted, with a sigh. “Let’s sit down over here, where we have some privacy.”  
The open café in the center of the first floor, was virtually empty at this time of night, so the partners picked a quiet table, where Heyes could keep an eye on the other players, but still be able to discuss things with Jed, without having to worry about being overheard.   
“What’s goin’ on?” Jed asked.  
“Well, for one thing, I’m losing,” Heyes griped. “I’m down ten grand. Just before the break was the first winning hand I’ve had all evening.”  
“Oh,” Jed commented. “Yeah, that ain’t good.”  
“On top of that,” Heyes continued. “I really can’t be sure who our man is.”  
“Yeah?” Kid asked. “You seemed to think you had a good idea before ya’ went in there. That turn out to be a false trail?”  
“I don’t know,” Heyes admitted with a frustrated sigh. “I sure hope it’s him; the guy’s being an ass. But he’s not giving anything away. I can’t even hear a hint of an accent. The only reason I can suspect him, is because nobody knows him. He’s new to this game.”  
“Yeah, but so are you.”  
“At least they know me by reputation,” Heyes reminded him. “That counts for something. Dickson claims to be from back East, and so far, I can’t find any flaws in that story.”  
“Maybe his is from back East,” Jed pointed out. “We’re all assumin’ this guy is native to England, but maybe he ain’t. Maybe he just went there to ply his trade until things got too hot for ‘im, and now he’s come home.”  
Heyes looked at his cousin with mild enlightenment shining in his eyes. He smiled.  
“I never thought of that,” he admitted. “We might not be looking for an Englishman at all.”  
“Yeah. I ain’t sayin’ that’s the case, but it’s somethin’ to consider.”  
Heyes nodded agreement.  
“Excuse me, sir,”   
Heyes glanced up to be met with one of the porters, presenting Heyes with a large sandwich and a mug of ale.  
“Yes?”  
“It was decided that a small meal would be provided for the players during the break, rather than when the game re-commences. On the house.”  
“Oh!” Heyes brightened up. “Thank you. Ah, can I get one for my friend, as well?” Slight hesitation followed this request, and Heyes quickly added, “On my tab, of course.”  
The porter smiled with relief. “Oh, yes sir. No problem.”  
“Good.”  
“Thanks, Heyes,” Kid said, as the porter departed. “I am kind’a hungry.”  
“Hmm, they make an incredible sandwich here, too. It’s a meal in itself. Here,” Heyes continued over a mouthful, “take the other half, then we’ll split yours when it comes.”  
Jed grinned and grabbed the handful of sandwich.  
“So what’s this Dickson fella doin’ that’s got ya’ pissed at ‘im?”  
“Just being obnoxious,” Heyes informed him. “He keeps proddin’ at me, accusing me of cheating based on who I am, and where I spent the worst five years of my life.”  
“Geesh,” Jed grumbled. “And he’s gettin’ away with that?”  
“No,” Heyes admitted. “Waring’s let him have it a couple of times. Threatened to have him removed from the game, if he doesn’t stop it. But that in itself isn’t what has me concerned. I can take a bit of heckling, sometimes that’s part of the game. But my main concern is why is he doing it?”  
The porter returned at this time, and placed another large sandwich and mug of dark brown ale down in front of the Kid. Jed ginned through his current mouthful and nodded his thanks. A quick swallow of beer, and the conversation continued.  
“Do ya’ think it’s more than just tryin’ ta’ throw ya’ off your game?”  
Heyes shrugged again. “I don’t know. It depends. If he is who he says he is, there could be a number of reasons for it. The first is the obvious one: he sees me as the biggest threat in the game, and he’s trying to un-nerve me. Or, he really does think that because I was an outlaw, and did time, that I cannot be trusted, and he really does believe that I’m cheating. Even though he can’t prove it. On the other hand, if he’s who I think he is, he may suspect that I’m here to weed him out, and he’s trying to discredit me right from the get go. All I need to do is figure out which it is.”  
“Yeah. And in the meantime, you’re losin’.”  
Heyes frowned. “Thanks for the reminder.”  
“Just keepin’ ya’ on your toes, Heyes.” Jed then sat back and tried, unsuccessfully, to stifle a yawn.  
Heyes’ frown deepened. “I don’t mean to be keeping you up; you could go to bed, ya’ know.”  
“No, no, that’s alright,” Jed waved the suggestion away as he fought with another expression of exhaustion. “I’m fine.”  
Heyes tightly clenched his jaw against the contagion, determined not to be dragged down by it. “There’s no reason for you to stay up,” he continued, once he felt in control again. “You see those two rather large deputies over there?”  
“Can hardly miss ‘em.”  
“Well, they’re doing a really good job of guarding that door,” Heyes pointed out. “If anybody inside that room, or out, tries to pull anything, I’m quite confident that those gentlemen will be capable of dealing with it.”  
“I donno, Heyes,” Jed countered this reasoning. “What if the guilty party decides to hold the game hostage?”  
“Hostage?”  
“Yeah. And what if he does realize that you’re in there to catch ‘im? He might let the other players go, and just hold you hostage, demandin’ to be allowed to leave with all the money, or he’ll blow your brains out. What then?”  
“I think you’re being a little melodramatic…”  
“And how could I face Miranda, knowin’ that your body parts were strewn all over the inside ‘a that room, while I was in my bed, snorin’, instead ‘a watchin’ your back?”  
Heyes sighed. “Can’t knock your logic there.”  
“No,” Jed agreed. “So, I’ll just stick around and play some poker, or some blackjack. Keep an eye on things.”  
“What about Mr. Finney?” Heyes asked. “Is he still on the job?”  
Jed sat up straighter, his mood changing to more serious matters.  
“That guy is scary,” he admitted. “Geez, Heyes, I thought you and I were good at disappearin’ in plain sight, but he’s downright spooky. I’d have my eye on ‘im, certain that I’m keepin’ ‘im in my sites, then suddenly I’d spot ‘im way on the other side‘a the room. How does he do that?”  
Heyes shrugged. “I told ya’ he was good.”  
“Yeah,” Jed agreed, emphatically. “All I can say is, I’m glad he’s workin’ for us on this job, and not against us.”  
“Well, technically, we’re working for him,” Heyes pointed out. “But I get your gist. For an unassuming little man, he could have been dangerous for us.”  
“Yep.”  
“Excuse me, gentlemen?” Waring’s voice sounded from behind Heyes. “The game is about to re-commence.”  
“Ah! Thank you,” Heyes said. “I’ll be right there.”  
“Certainly,” Waring agreed. “Just so you know, everyone will be searched thoroughly before re-entering the game room. For everyone’s security, you understand.”  
Heyes’ face fell in disappointment as Mr. Waring departed.  
“Damn,” he grumbled. “Oh well. I suppose they are just being careful. I’ll see you later, Kid.”  
“Yep,” Jed repeated, as his partner stood up and prepared to leave. “Oh, and Heyes? Don’t ya’ think it’s about time ya’ started playin’ ta’ win?”  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
Heyes made his departure and went over to join the group of men milling about in front of the large double doors. It seems that everyone was having to wait their turn to be searched by a deputy. Heyes inwardly cringed.  
Jed grinned while he watched his partner’s back tense up with dread as he headed for the inevitable. He sighed contentedly and stretched out his full length while producing yet another, jaw snapping yawn. That done, he eyed what was left of Heyes’ sandwich, but decided that he’d had more than enough to eat already. Time to get back to work.  
He stood up and made his way back into the make shift gambling hall. He hesitated by the poker game he’d been playing at, but decided that poker wasn’t doing him any favors this night. He scanned the room, debating over what should be his next game when Mr. Finney was suddenly standing at his elbow.   
Jed jumped, his right hand dropping instinctively towards his holstered gun. He then relaxed and sighed with relief.  
“Geez, Mr…Kevin,” he grumbled. “Ain’t I told ya’ already, not to do that to me?”  
Finney smiled softly, as though he had enjoyed giving the ex-outlaw a start.  
“And how is our friend, Hannibal, doing with his game?” Finney asked, nonchalantly.   
“Not so good,” Jed admitted. “Ain’t nothin’ linin’ up for ‘im, as of yet.”  
“Ah,” Finney nodded his understanding. “Not to worry. The night is still young.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“And how are the games of chance treating you, tonight?” Finney asked.  
“Not much better,” Jed admitted. “I think I’ll go try my hand at blackjack.”  
“Aye. Fine idea.”  
Xxx  
The players settled back down in their appropriate chairs around the poker table. Heyes did a quick calculating of his chips and was satisfied that none had been touched or moved in any way. He permitted himself a discreet reckoning of everyone else’s chips as well, and knew that everything was in exactly the same positions as they had been, when the game had broken for lunch.  
He sighed deeply, gave his fingers a crack and settled in to play poker. He had decided he was going to change strategy during the second half of this game. Enough trying to second guess the bad guy. Finney had cautioned him that their man was a genius at disguise, so he wasn’t going to let himself be found out that easily. If he was in the game, the best route now was for Heyes to play to win and hope that having his plans threatened, would rattle their prey just enough for him to make a mistake.  
Aside from that, Heyes knew that he had to turn things around. He couldn’t afford to lose his stake. But he knew that his focus had been divided between two objectives and therefore, he hadn’t been successful at obtaining either one. It was time to get serious. Find his direction and, as the Kid had said, start playing to win. Everything else would work its way out.  
Xxx  
Jed made his way over to the blackjack table and took possession of one of the empty chairs situated around the card table. The dealer acknowledged him and Jed nodded back, but the other players ignored him, focusing instead on their own cards and attempting to keep track of the count.  
With the previous hand played and now a new player in the mix, the dealer shuffled the shoe, thereby throwing off any counting that the other players may have been attempting. A couple of the players sent Jed a disgruntled look, as though it were his fault that the dealer was only doing what a good dealer would do. Keep the shoe shuffled on a regular basis and prevent any of the players from remembering an accurate count.  
Jed smiled to himself at the sore losers and settled in to play. It wasn’t long before he was thinking that he should have left poker for the blackjack table, hours earlier. His losing streak over there had not followed him over here and soon he had a growing pile of chips in front of him. A couple of the players packed it in and left, but two others still remained and the betting continued.  
When it comes to blackjack, each player is only betting against the dealer so there really isn’t any need to keep an eye on the other players at the table, but Jed still liked to do so. He was discreet about it though, as a player being scrutinized at this game may take offense at the intrusion and get huffy about it. But Jed’s long years of watching his partner’s back had ingrained the habit into him to always be on the lookout for cheaters and scoundrels, even when he and Heyes had been scoundrels themselves.  
Tonight was no exception to his rule, but decided early on, that there wasn’t much in the way of cheating being attempted. Some of the players who came and went were trying to count the cards, but that was allowed, so long as they didn’t start writing things down. And as long as the dealer shuffled the shoe on a regular basis, counting cards wasn’t really going to give a player any kind of advantage anyway.  
Jed smirked at the concentrating expressions on a few of the faces and was rewarded by a middle-aged man sending him a scowl.  
“What’s your problem, mister?”   
“Who? Me?” Jed asked with exaggerated innocence. “Nothin’. Just wonderin’ why yer botherin’ ta’ count the cards, when it ain’t gonna do ya’ no good.”  
The scowl deepened. “Who says I’m countin’ cards!”  
“Sorry,” the Kid backed off. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”  
“Sorry!” the player repeated. “Damn! Now I’m off my game.” He threw in his cards and gathered up what chips he had in front of him. “I’m gonna go play some poker. If I’m gonna be scrutinized, there may as well be a reason for it!”  
He stood up and stomped off towards the table that Jed had earlier vacated.   
“Well, I hope he has more luck over there than I did,” Jed commented. “They play mean poker at that table.”  
“Ah, don’t worry about it,” commented the young man sitting next to Jed. “That fella’s been losin’ all night. Some folks is just bad card players.”  
“You got that right,” Jed agreed. “You seem to be doin’ alright.”  
The man smiled at the pile of chips stacked up in front of him. “Yeah. I hope you don’t break my run ‘a luck.”  
Jed smiled. “I’m certainly gonna try.”  
The man smiled back and offered his hand. “I’m Clancy. Clancy Gilmore.”  
“Howdy,” Jed greeted him, and they shook hands. “Jed Curry.”  
If Jed had been expecting a reaction from his new friend, he would have been disappointed. Clancy’s repression remained friendly, but neutral.  
“Howdy. You from around these parts?”  
“I am now,” Jed said, as the dealer began to hand out cards again. “I live in a small town west of here, called Brookswood.” Then he decided to push the envelope. “But I used to hail from up Wyoming way.”  
“Oh yeah?” Clancy responded. “I spent some time in Wyoming. It’s a real purdy state.”  
“Depends on what part yer in,” Jed told him, dryly. “How about you? Where do you hail from before Wyoming?”  
“Kansas.”  
“Oh yeah?” Jed perked up. “My folks were from Kansas. Lived and died there. I got out as soon as I could.”  
Jed instantly felt a tension develop in the other man’s body language, as though he suddenly regretted claiming Kansas as his home town. But why would he lie about it?  
“You fellas gonna stop jawin’ and play cards?” one of the other players demanded, irritably. “Yer makin’ it hard ta’ focus, here!”  
“Oh, sorry,” Jed apologized and sent a sheepish smile to Clancy.  
That young man smiled back, but then turned his attention to his own cards and the play began.  
Xxx  
Heyes sat calmly as he watched the other players go through various emotions, all based on their individual personalities. The pot was big, at least $80,000, and this was when the more easily intimidated participants began to sweat.  
Waring sat stoically, waiting for the betting to make its way around the table. He had a good hand but he wasn’t about to let that be known to the general public. He sat and watched as each player held true to the course, or crumpled and fell to the wayside.  
Pierce had bet to the pot and hoped that the moisture he could feel dripping down his forehead was perspiration and not his oily hair tonic. He wouldn’t be able to tell without wiping his hand across his skin, and he wasn’t about to do that and risk coming across as some kind of dandy.  
Dickson was grumpy as usual. He was eyeing Heyes on a regular basis, either trying to un-nerve him or actually looking for any signs of cheating. Heyes smirked inwardly. Even if he was going to cheat in this game, nobody here would be able to spot it. If Dickson thought he was going to figure out Heyes’ tell, he was again, looking for ghosts on the wind. He eventually did place a bet, but he kept it close.  
Longstreet folded. The game this year was proving to be too rich for his cards, and he had the good manners to withdraw from the final rounds and watch, to see who would be the victor.  
Wyles also folded. The pot was too big, and his pile of remaining chips too small for him to want to risk any more of it. If he left the game with at least some money in his pocket, perhaps his wife won’t hen peck him to death during the trip home.  
Bates was running out of chips and the chinks in his armor were beginning to widen. He wasn’t ready to give it up yet, though, and he placed his bet, just to stay in the game.  
Hargitt was in for the long haul. Now that Dickson had been subdued from his haggling, Hargitt seemed to think it was his personal duty to run Heyes into the ground. It was unacceptable for some lowly ex-con, no matter who he used to be, to take control of this game, and Hargitt had appointed himself as the player who would make sure that it didn’t happen.   
Heyes liked that idea. A player who begins to take things personally isn’t going to be playing to his full capacity. Emotions will get in the way of both logic and intuition, and since Hargitt had already shown himself to be a reckless bidder, all Heyes had to do was hold his own, until Hargitt hung himself out to dry.  
Heyes’ mind was flicking like quicksilver. He knew his chances with the cards that he held, and he now, finally, knew how he was going to play his game. He smiled and glanced around at his fellow players and they were all watching him. With a sigh, he counted out his chips and added the appropriate amount to the pot.  
The tension was mounting as the pot grew and all eyes now turned to Waring.  
That gentleman smiled and shook his head.  
“Not this time,” he admitted. “I fold.”  
The next one to crumble was Pierce. His nerve only lasted so long, and when he compared what he had in front of him, to how much he’d have to put into the pot just to stay in the game, it was too rich for his blood. He folded and hoped that the next deal would give him a more competitive hand.  
Dickson scowled and gnashed his teeth against the inevitable. Eventually, he followed Pierce’s lead and folded. There was no good sense in sending good money after bad, and as much as he wanted to see Heyes crushed, he would wait and launch a new attack with the next round.  
Bates was sweating and constantly looking at his hand and then at the pot. Back and forth, back and forth. He had just enough chips left in front of him to meet the current bet, and if no one else raised it, he might just have a chance at $80,000. Or, he could go home broke. Finally, while biting his lower lip, he made a show of counting his chips and then pushed the whole lot into the pot.  
Heyes inwardly groaned. Bates should have followed the example of the two previous players, and folded while he still had chips in front of him. The chances of him having a better hand than both Heyes and Hargitt, were slim to none. But it was done, and now everyone looked to Hargitt.  
Hargitt puffed himself up, smiling with his own self-assurance.  
“I’ll meet the pot,” he announced. “And raise it, fifty dollars.”  
This move elicited nervous murmurings from some of the other players, but a loud groan over-shadowed them all. Mr. Bates did not have the chips left to meet the raise. He was out of the game, and broke.  
Heyes sighed. “Alright, Mr. Hargitt. I’ll meet your raise, and call.”  
Hargitt smiled triumphantly and laid his down cards down on the table, spreading them for all to see. Whistles met this action. Hargitt’s hand would be hard to beat, and Heyes couldn’t do it.  
“Congratulations, Mr. Hargitt,” he said, good-naturedly. “You’ve won the biggest pot of the evening. So far.”  
Hargitt smirked at Heyes, as he hauled in the pot. “It sounds to me like you’re not ready to admit defeat yet, Mr. Heyes. Another round?”  
“The night isn’t quite over yet, Mr. Hargitt,” Heyes responded. “I’m still in the game, if you are.”  
“By all means. Another hand.”  
Xxx  
“Another card,” Jed requested.  
The dealer flicked him one from the shoe, and Jed hissed through his teeth when he saw the denomination.   
“Damn, I’m out,” he admitted and threw in his hand.  
Clancy sent him a sideways glance and tossed in another bet. The next player folded and the one next to him asked for another card. He smiled and placed another bet. The dealer called the game and spread out his hand. The other player groaned and gave it up. Clancy grinned like a schoolboy and spread out his hand for the others to see. Sure enough, it beat the dealer’s hand by two.  
“Good play,” Jed complimented him. “You seem to have a knack for this.”  
“Yeah,” Clancy agreed, feeling relaxed again, now that he was winning. “My brothers and I would always play 21 back home, all the time.”  
“Back home?” Jed asked. “Ya’ mean, in Kansas?”  
“Yeah,” Clancy clarified. “In Kansas.”  
“I ain’t heard this game called 21 in a long time,” Jed commented. “And certainly not in Kansas. You sure you’re from…?”  
“So what?” Clancy asked, becoming defensive. “That’s what my family called it. Is that a problem for you?”  
“Noo,” Jed assured him. “No problem. Just sayin’.”  
“Good.”  
The dealer collected in his winnings for the house and new cards were dealt out for the next round. Jed checked his spread and decided to hold.  
“So, you’ve spent time in Wyoming, huh?”  
“Yeah,” the lad concurred as he checked his hand and asked for another card. “I gotta admit, I prefer it here in Colorado, though. Why?”  
“Well,’ Jed shrugged. “I’m just kind’a surprised that ya’ ain’t heard ‘a me.”  
“Heard of ya’?” Clancy asked. “Why should I?”  
“So you live in Wyoming, but you ain’t never heard ‘a Kid Curry, Hannibal Heyes—the Devil’s Hole Gang?”  
Clancy looked over at Jed, and his uneasiness returned. “Oh. Well, ah…yeah, I guess I’ve heard of ya’. I don’t pay much mind to that kind ‘a thing…”  
“You’re Kid Curry?” came an inquiry from the other side of the blackjack table. “Hell, I was wonderin’ what happened to you. Once them trials was over with, you kind’a just dropped outa sight, didn’t ya’?”  
“Ah, yeah. Sort of,” Jed admitted, feeling slightly irritated that his rapport with Clancy had been interrupted.  
“Damn!” the player cursed again, and then got up from his chair and came over to Jed, his hand outstretched. “Well now, I just gotta shake that famous gun hand. Just goes ta’ show, ya’ never know who yer gonna run into at a shindig like this.”  
Jed smiled politely and shook the man’s hand. “Yeah, thank you. Ya’ just never know.”  
“Name’s Jack Tobias. It sure is good ta’ meet ya’. Say, how’s yer partner? I heard he got paroled. Is he around here somewhere?” And he began to look around the lounge, hoping to spot the other half of the infamous duo.  
“Yeah,” Jed confirmed. “Ah, he’s in there, playin’ in the big fancy game. They ought to be done soon.”  
Jed noticed Clancy give him a quick double-take with that information, then quickly covered the reaction and went back to studying his cards.  
“Is that so?” Tobias exclaimed. “Well now, I guess that do make sense, don’t it? He always was a sharpie, weren’t he?”  
“Are we playin’ cards, or jawin’!” complained the other player. “Let’s get on with this.”  
“Oh yeah, right,” Tobias agreed. “Time ta’ play cards.” He then turned and gave Clancy a gentle shove on his shoulder. “Damn! You’ve lived here in the West, and you don’t even know about Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry? Geeze boy, you gotta get out more.”  
Clancy grinned nervously. He sent Jed a quick glance and then went back to studying his cards.   
Jed backed off, not wanting to spook the youngster. But the hairs on the back of his neck were starting to rise up, and he knew that something more was going on here.  
“Ah, deal me out’a this round,” he told the dealer. “I need a beer. I’ll be back though.”  
“Very good, sir,” the dealer acknowledged. “Leave you chips and no one will take your place.”  
“Yeah, thanks.”  
Jed got up and headed for the bar. He casually scanned the area, looking for Finney but couldn’t see him. Damn, just when he needed the man, he couldn’t be found. He sighed and caught the bartender’s eye.  
“One beer,” he ordered.  
The barkeep nodded and set about pulling it.  
“You wanted a word, did you?”  
Jed nearly jumped out of his skin. “Damn!” he cursed. “Stop doing that!”  
Finney smiled. “That young fella you’re sitting with—not setting well with you, is he?”  
Jed paid for his beer and took a sip. “No, he ain’t. He claims to be from Kansas, but got real uncomfortable when I told ‘im that I was from Kansas as well. Like he got caught in a lie, or somethin’. On top ‘a that, he claims to have been living in Wyoming for a while now, and he thinks it’s a ‘purdy’ state.”  
“Oh, aye,” Finney exaggerated his agreement. “That’s a sure give away that he’s not whom he claims.”  
Jed gave him a look. “It ain’t just that,” he insisted. “He’s been livin’ here, loves the West, so he claims, but ain’t never heard ‘a me and Heyes. I can’t put my finger on it, but that just ain’t right. Somethin’s goin’ on here.”  
Finney nodded. “Aye. Your ego aside, I tend to agree. When I was here the last time, I would have had to be living in a barrel to not hear of Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes. Granted, some time has passed since then, but hardly enough to wipe you from living memory.”  
“Well, thanks for that, at least,” Jed grumbled. “Most of the fellas here know who we are, even if they don’t know us on sight. But he ain’t never even heard of us. And sayin’ that Wyoming is a ‘purdy’ state! Well…maybe up north, in the Yellowstone. But…most people just complain about the wind.”  
“Aye,” Finney agreed. “I’ll saunter over in a little bit and join in the game. Perhaps between the two of us, we can rattle him enough to show his other hand.”  
“Good.”   
Jed picked up his beer, took another sip and headed back to the blackjack table. Finney strolled off in the opposite direction.  
Xxx  
The bets were large, and the pot was growing quickly. The stress of the previous hand was nothing compared to the atmosphere in the room now. For those who had already left the game, the tension was off, and they could sit back and watch the strategies being played out. But for those still in the game, the mood was tight.  
Waring took a deep breath and let it out through pursed lips. He was determined to stay in the game, knowing that he still had a chance at the big pot, but he also knew that he was playing catch-up. His big mistake was assuming right from the start that he would, again, be the big winner tonight. Knowing of Mr. Heyes’ reputation at the poker table was nothing compared to actually watching the man in action. That privilege itself, was almost worth losing to him. Almost.  
“I’ll bet to the pot,” he stated. “and raise by $2,000.”  
Dickson didn’t hesitate. “I’ll meet that bet, and raise another $1,000.”  
Pierce was definitely sweating now. His fine moustache drooped, and his slicked back hair had lost its hold and strands of it were falling down over his eyes, adding to his appearance of desperation. He’d lost all composure and was looking at his cards, then the pot and then at the small pile of chips still left in front of him. His mind was racing; what to do, what to do.  
He glanced around at the other players and realized that his pile of chips was one of the smallest at the table. Did he want to risk it all? As it stood, he’d have to contribute $3,000 to the pot, just to stay in the game, and he still wanted to have some fun, before he left town. Oh, what the hell. He’d give it one more go around.  
“I’ll bet to the pot,” he finally announced, and pushed the appropriate amount in to the middle of the table.  
Hargitt took the time to meet the eye of each player who was still in the game, as though ridiculing them for thinking that they actually still had a chance.  
“I’ll meet the current bet,” he stated, confidently. “And raise by $20,000.”  
Groans made their way around the table. Waring and Pierce both threw in their hands in disgust. Neither of them had the funds to beat that bet. Dickson was glaring at Hargitt for deliberately pushing the pot so high, taking it out of reach for all but three of them. Dickson had enough to meet the bet and stay in the game, but only if Heyes didn’t raise. If he did, Dickson was out.  
All eyes turned to the soft dimpled smile. Heyes knew that this round was between himself and Hargitt. Dickson had enough to meet the pot, but nothing more. If he was smart, he would fold on this hand and keep enough to still have a good time in town. But Heyes knew that Dickson wasn’t particularly smart, and that he also had a grudge going. If Heyes met the current bet, and then raised, he would push Dickson out of game, allowing him to limp away with what he still had in front of him. But Heyes wanted what Dickson had in front of him, he wanted that fool to push everything he had into the pot, and then be forced to call it.  
“I’ll meet that bet,” Heyes said, and pushed his chips in.  
Silence then, as everyone looked to Dickson. He bore his gaze into Heyes, feeling like he was being set up, but still not able to let the chance go. Heyes sat back, relaxed and confident, waiting for Dickson to make his choice. Heyes’ nonchalance irritated Dickson even more. With this much money at stake, how could he not be sweating? He didn’t even have the good graces to squirm under Dickson’s hard gaze. The man was infuriating.  
“I’ll meet the bet,” Dickson announced. “And call.”  
Hargitt smiled. With a haughtiness intended to irritate, he set his cards on the table and fanned them open. Whistles of admiration did the rounds, but Dickson cursed. He threw his cards onto the table in a huff and sat back with folded arms to nurse a wounded ego. The only way this could be made acceptable, is if Heyes also had to throw in his cards.   
But Heyes did not throw in his cards. He set them down and casually fanned them out. Silence followed as everyone took in the hand. It was a hand that could have been beat, but Heyes had taken a chance on it and played it to the hilt. It had been a true gamble, but it paid off.   
Hargitt’s smugness deflated. To his credit, he rallied and offered his congratulations.   
“Well played, Mr. Heyes,” he said, with a slight tremor in his voice. “It seems that you have now won the largest pot of the evening. So far.”  
Heyes nodded, and grinned with satisfaction, as he racked in his winnings.  
“Well,” Mr. Waring commented as the previous deck was discarded, and a new one brought onto the table. “It seems we are at a tie, gentlemen. By the rules of this game, there can be only one man standing at the end. One more hand, and the winner will walk away with over $100,000 in their bank account. If you wish to take a break, now would be a good time.”  
Glances went around the table. Nobody seemed interested in walking away now.  
“Let’s play poker,” Heyes stated.  
“To the last man standing,” Hargitt agreed.  
“Fine,” Waring accepted the decision. “The last hand. May the best player win.” And he tore open the box of the final deck.  
Xxx  
Jed returned to the blackjack table, all smiles and amiability. He glanced at the chips in front of Clancy and grinned all the more.  
“You are doin’ good,” he commented. “I’m gonna have ta try real hard, just to keep up with ya’.”  
Clancy smiled over at him. “Like I said, I’ve played this game a lot.”  
“Yeah. It shows.” Jed agreed. “It takes a real good memory to consistently win at blackjack. What do you do for a livin’? You a banker, or somethin’?”  
Clancy snorted. “No. I’m no banker,” he said. “I ain’t really settled on any one thing yet. Maybe I’ll become a private detective, or something. Might be, I’d be good at it.” And he grinned at Curry, as though making a pointed joke.  
Jed laughed. “Yeah, ya might be, at that.”  
“Gentlemen, is this chair available?”   
Jed did a good job of covering his surprise. He looked up at the new arrival and swore that he was looking at Finney, but the accent coming to his ears was a flawless, southwestern variety that had no resemblance at all to the Irish lilt.  
“Ah, no,” Jed responded, as he indicated the empty chair to his right. “Plenty ‘a room”  
“Good,” Finney said, and pulled up the chair. “Name’s Hardcore. I came up here from Texas on some ranch business, and didn’t realize it was a big night in Denver. Couldn’t find a place to spend the night, so thought I’d do some gambling.”  
“Howdy,” Jed played along. “I’m Jed Curry.”  
Finney’s brows went up. “Really?” he exclaimed. “The Jed Curry? The fastest gun in the West, Jed Curry?”  
“Well, yeah.”  
Finney shook his hand with an over-kill of exuberance. “Imagin that! Kid Curry himself, sittin’ here, right next to me, playin’ blackjack.”  
“That’s what I said!” Tobias announced from the other side of the table. “Can you believe it? And this young whippersnapper here, didn’t even know who he was.”  
“Really?” Finney was incredulous. “You never heard ‘a Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes?”  
“Well, I have now!” Clancy snarked, feeling put upon. “I ain’t never gonna forget ‘em after tonight.”  
“Aw, that’s alright,” Jed said, quickly coming to Clancy’s rescue. “We’re kind’a old hat now, anyways. Can I buy ya’ a drink?”  
“What? Oh…” Clancy was taken by surprise. “Yeah, sure. I guess.”  
“What’ll ya’ have?”  
“A beer, I suppose.”  
“Sure thing,” Jed agreed. “Anybody else?”  
“Well hell, if yur buyin’,” Tobias stated. “I’ll have a beer as well.”  
Jed nodded, and looked to Finney.  
“I’ll have a whiskey, thank you kindly.”  
On his way over to the bar, Jed shook his head in mild disbelief. Finney was really playing this for all it was worth and Jed felt that he needed a moment away from the table, in order to compose himself. On top of that, offering to buy the table a round was the best way to get people relaxed and talking.  
After he ordered the drinks to be delivered to their blackjack table, Jed did a casual stroll through the lobby on the pretense of using the privy. He had no real reason for doing so, other than to satisfy his own sense of caution over the status of the poker game. He wasn’t surprised to see two different, though equally as large and forbidding deputies, still guarding the doors. It had been a long night for those not caught up in the game, and it wouldn’t do for the guards to fall asleep on the job.  
Jed puffed out a heavy sigh and carried on with his business. He really hadn’t expected the game to be over yet, but he still wanted to keep an eye on things, just in case something nasty went down before the game was officially over. So far, everything appeared pretty quiet, and he was eager to get back to the blackjack table to deal with his own intrigue.   
The drinks had already been delivered when Jed headed back, and he could hear Finney’s feigned accent coming to him from all the way across the room. Granted, it was the wee hours of the morning, and many of the casual players had headed home or to their rooms for some shut-eye before the pending dawn. But it was still outside the norm, for the quiet and unassuming Yard man to be speaking in such loud and vibrant tones. He would have been good as a flimflammer himself.  
Jed stifled a yawn as he sat down with that same group, but he wasn’t quite successful at hiding his tiredness from the others.  
Clancy chuckled. “Havin’ a hard time keepin’ up, old man?” he teased him.   
Jed smiled, good-naturedly. “Yeah. I gotta admit that pulling these all-nighters ain’t quite as easy as it used to be. Bed was starting to sound pretty good.”  
“You ain’t plannin’ on callin’ it a night, are ya’?” Tobias asked, showing real concern. “We’re just getting’ warmed up here.”  
“Oh no,” Jed assured them. “I’m here for the long haul.” And he smiled nonchalantly at Finney.  
“Good!” Finney exclaimed as he banged his fist upon the table. “The night is not over yet!”  
Xxx  
Since Heyes and Hargitt had been sitting beside one another throughout the night, with them being the only two players left in the game, they decided to give themselves a little bit more room. The two men positioned themselves so they could engage in the subtleties of the game without putting too much strain on their necks by having to turn to watch the other player.  
Everyone else at the table pulled back to give them room to spread out. The only rules were to remain quiet and not maneuver around behind either player. Only the person in the game would know what their down cards were. If this rule were even suspected of being breeched, the hand would be forfeit, and a new deck brought into play.  
“Alright Gentlemen, here we go,” Waring announced, and after shuffling the deck, he dealt out two hole cards to each player, quickly followed by their window card.  
Everyone leaned forward to get a look at who would be off on a running start. Hargitt found himself with the highest up card, with a ten of spades compared to Heyes’ two of hearts. He took a look at his two hole cards and decided to play it safe.  
“I’ll meet the anti,” he announced. “$20,000.”  
Heyes glanced at his hole cards and played the same. “$20,000.”  
Chips were slid into the quickly expanding pot, and both players looked to the dealer.  
Waring dealt another window card. Hargitt bagged himself a Queen of diamonds, while Heyes settled for the five of hearts.  
Hargitt smiled and placed another bet. “$5,000.”  
“I’ll meet your bet, and raise another five.”  
“Fine,” Hargitt agreed. “Another five into the pot.”  
Waring smiled. Both players were out for blood. They were biding their time, each waiting to see if the next window card was going to set them on the road towards the possible winning hand. If neither man folded after their next card, then it was going to be a fast and furious rush to the top of the pile, to see who would go home rich and who would go home broke.  
Xxx  
Clancy was still doing most of the winning at the blackjack table, while Jed and Finney appeared to be doing most of the talking. Tobias had decided to call it a night, and headed off towards his room, but Clancy wasn’t done gambling yet. He just wished the two older men would stop talking, as it was breaking his focus.  
“So, you’re the infamous Kid Curry, huh?” Finney continued. “Are you really as fast as they say you are?”  
“It depends on who said it,” Jed answered him. “Some claim I ain’t so fast, anymore. But ya’ know, I ain’t seen any of ‘em confident enough ta’ challenge me.”  
Finney laughed and slapped Jed on the back. “That says a lot right there, now don’t it?”  
“Yeah, it do.”  
“C’mon, will you fellas stop talkin’!” Clancy complained. “If ya’ wanna visit, go over to the bar or somethin’.”  
“Oh my,” Finney responded. “Isn’t this youngster gettin’ full ‘a himself. You didn’t mind talkin’ when someone was buyin’ ya’ a beer. Maybe ya’ better buy him another beer, Curry. Just to keep ‘im happy. And while you’re at it, I’ll have another whiskey.”  
Jed sent Finney a hard look, but decided to play along. He caught the eye of the bar maid this time and indicated to her, his order. She nodded and headed off to fill it.  
“You fellas sure did get a lot of attention with your trials,” Finney continued. “How come your partner got sent up the river, and you got off scott free? A little one-sided in the handing out justice department, weren’t they?”  
“Yeah, they were,” Jed agreed. “But it don’t matter none now. We got ‘im out.”  
Finney laughed louder than ever, and again gave Jed a slap on the back. “It may not matter to you, but I bet, it sure as hell mattered to him!”  
“Yeah, I’d like ta’ bet too,” Clancy snarked. “Shut up.”  
“Oh my,” Finney teased him. “I think it’s past your bedtime. Here, here’s yer drink comin’. Now drink up and let’s have an end to this unpleasantness.”  
“The only unpleasantness is you fellas talkin’,” Clancy complained, but then helped himself to his beer, all the same.  
“So how’s life treatin’ ya’ now?” Finney continued the conversation. “You fellas stayin’ out’a trouble with the law?”  
“We’re sure tryin’,” Jed informed him. “We’re both married now, got families. I’m workin’ out on my father-in-law’s ranch.”  
“Really?” Finney sounded incredulous. “Kind’a hard work for a fella your age. How about your partner? He doin’ the same?”  
“No, as a matter a fact, he ain’t,” Jed grumbled, showing some irritation. “He up and married himself a rich widow, so he don’t have ta’ work. Spends most ‘a his time playin’ damn poker!”  
“Really?” Finney repeated. “Not a lick ‘a work out ‘a him?”  
“That’s right,” Jed groused. “It wouldn’t matter, if he won at poker, but he don’t! He loses more than he wins. And I tell ya’, I’m gettin’ the feelin’ that his wife is getting’ tired of it too. They got one young’un already, and another ‘un on the way, and he ain’t doin’ nothin’ ta’ help out.”  
“Well don’t that just beat all,” Finney sympathized. “Just goes to show, once a dead beat, always a dead beat.”  
“Yeah!”  
“Will you guys shut-up!!” Clancy demanded, standing up and swaying a little bit. He quickly caught his balance and leaned towards the two other men, looking as though he might be reading to throw a punch or two.  
The dealer stepped back, give time for this altercation to settle down before continuing the game. If it continued on in this vein, he’d have to call for assistance.  
“Oh calm down,” Finney placated Clancy. “Can’t ya’ see, Jed here has a real grievance?”  
“I got a real grievance, too!” Clancy insisted, his speech slightly slurred. “I’m tryin’ to play cards here, and I can’t focus on anything with you two jawin’ away, like that.” He turned to the dealer. “Ain’t there nothin’ you can do about this? Ain’t this table supposed ta’ be for card playin’, and not two old men cryin’ into their booze.”  
“Yes sir,” the dealer assured him. “I would suggest that you two gentlemen…”  
Finney slammed his fist into the table and stood up to be nose to nose with Clancy. “Don’t you go bringin’ him into this! If you can’t focus on the cards with a little distraction goin’ on around you, then you ain’t much of a card player!”  
“Just ‘cause you two geezers are too old to stay focused long enough, don’t mean…!”  
“You young upstart! I ought to come over there and put you across my knee!”  
Clancy snorted. “I’d like ta’ see you try, old man! I’d drop you faster than a hot poker on brandin’ day!”  
“Aye laddie. I’m sure you’d be likin’ to try it!”  
“Aye, don’t ya’ know that I would!”  
Silence settled over the blackjack table as Jed realized what Finney had just done. Get Clancy just enough into his pints that his tongue loosened up, get him riled into anger and then suddenly switch back to his own natural Irish accent.  
Clancy had fallen right into it. Hot under the collar, and his defenses down, he got caught off balance when he heard the more familiar accent from his home continent. Before he could stop himself, his natural Cockney lilt burst forth, and he gave his own cover away. His eyes popped and his jaw dropped with surprise, at the stupidity of his own mistake.  
Grabbing the chair behind him, Clancy threw it at the two men who had successfully set him up, and then made a dash for the hotel lobby. Finney and Jed both ducked, but were up in an instant and running after their quarry. Clancy grabbed more chairs as he ran, tossing them behind him, in an effort to slow down his pursuers, but Jed and Finney weren’t quite as old and decrepit as Clancy would have liked to believe, and both men easily avoided the missiles.   
Other players got out of their way, cursing at their games being disrupted, but still curious as to what was going on. The assumption was that someone had been caught cheating, so most cheered on the chasers, and some even made an attempt to stop the young fella, before he got away. But Clancy dodged them. He might be a little drunk, but he was still young and agile, not to mention, scared to death of being caught.  
He ran headlong into the hallway and tried to make a dash towards the lobby and then out the front doors, but he spotted two obstacles that he could not push out of his way: The two burley deputies who were still standing guard in front of the poker room.  
Abruptly changing direction, Clancy ran for the stairway, and taking three at a time he headed into the darkened upper hallways of the sleeping hotel.

Jed came to the lounge with Finney right behind him. He glanced to his left, and seeing the two deputies undisturbed, he ascertained that their quarry had not gone that way. Jed made a quick turn to the right and ran up the stairs, while Finney carried on into the lobby and dashed over to the check-in counter.  
Nobody was on hand at that time in the morning, and Finney pounded on the counter top.  
“Hello!” he yelled. “Clerk!”  
“Hang on, just a minute,” came a distracted voice from the back room.  
“I don’t have a minute!” Finney countered. “My friend and I spotted a young man cheating at Blackjack. My friend is in pursuit. Go, quickly! Or send for the sheriff!”  
The night clerk sauntered out to the counter, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “No point calling for the sheriff at this time of the a.m.,” he grumbled. “He probably ain’t even out’a bed yet.”  
“Well send for some law official!” Finney demanded. “There must be somebody on duty.”  
The clerk jerked a chin towards the deputies who were guarding the poker room.  
Generally a calm man in the face of danger and frustration, Finney was about to wring the clerk’s neck.  
“My good man, those deputies are busy; they cannot leave their post,” the detective pointed out. “Get a law officer over here, or I shall make the arrest myself.”  
“Yeah, well. That’ll work.”  
Finney practically threw up his hands in frustration, but he didn’t waste any more time on the half-awake night clerk. Pushing off from the counter, he hit a run and tackled the stairs, full speed ahead.  
Xxx  
With only two players left in the game, it didn’t take long for them to reach the seventh card. Along with his first two window cards, the Ten of Spades and the Queen of Diamonds, Hargitt now had the Ace of Diamonds and the Ten of Diamonds showing on the table. These four cards could be the beginning of anything, including the deadly Royal Flush, and he was betting like he knew it was going to turn into something big.   
Heyes knew that he also had the makings of a good hand, with the Three of Hearts to add to his fist two of the same suit, but that Queen of Spades wasn’t going to help him. The final card was going to make or break it. He also knew that he didn’t have any Diamonds in his hand, and if a Royal Flush was what Hargitt was going after, this could get nasty. The pot was huge, the largest Heyes had ever played for. If he won it, he could pay back the original $20,000 to Scotland Yard and still go home a wealthy man. But if he lost, well, he wouldn’t be broke, but he’d be in his wife’s debt and he sure wasn’t comfortable with that.  
Both men bet to stay in the game. After all, that is what this game was all about, wasn’t it? Play big or go home. Or better yet, don’t show up at all. The whole room waited with baited breath as the final card, face down, was dealt to both the players. Apparently, both men felt that they were still in the game and placed their bets accordingly.  
“Alright gentlemen,” Waring announced, as he sat back to watch how things would unfold. His job was now done. “It’s showdown time.”  
Heyes picked up his down cards and sorted which cards he was going to keep, and which ones he was going to let go. He glanced over at Hargitt and wasn’t getting any reading from him. Heyes had to admit, that as the stakes got higher, Hargitt’s nerve got stronger. It was impossible to read if his opponent was disappointed or elated, at the hand that he now held.  
Heyes had gotten what he wanted in that final card, but would his hand be strong enough to win? Nothing could beat a Royal Flush, and if that is what Hargitt now held in his hand, then he already had this game in his pocket.  
Hargitt smiled at Heyes and placed his bet. Heyes’ heart sank, just a touch. Hargitt looked smug, but it could just be an act, trying to un-nerve Heyes into folding rather than meet the large bet that Hargitt had just made. But Hargitt didn’t know his man very well. He knew that Heyes had a reputation as a strong poker player, but that would only be on the level of outlaws and convicts, not professional men, like he, himself. Heyes would crumble; Hargitt was sure of it.  
Heyes looked up and met his eye, and Hargitt felt a slight tremor go through him. The gaze was steady and confident. There was not a hint of the cowardly outlaw there, and Hargitt knew, even before Heyes placed his bet, that the man was going to do it.  
“I meet your bet,” Heyes said quietly. “And I call.”  
Hargitt looked around the table at all the eyes upon him. He smiled and licked his lips in anticipation. Turning his steady gaze now to the man seated beside him, he placed his cards on the table and fanned them for all to see. Gasps made their way around the table. Aces, four of a kind. It would be a tough hand to beat.  
Heyes felt his knees go weak. Hargitt had not produced the Royal Flush that Heyes had been worried about. In fact, he had not produced the winning hand at all. Heyes sighed deeply as the stress was released from his body, and he too, fanned his cards out upon the table.  
Even bigger gasps made the rounds, and everybody started talking at once. Everybody except Hargitt and Heyes. Hargitt couldn’t believe it. Who would have thought that Heyes would have pulled that off? A Straight Flush, six high. Not a Royal Flush, but just good enough to win the day. When their eyes met, the look he sent to Heyes was not that of a good loser.  
“Congratulations, Mr. Heyes!” Waring exclaimed as he came around to shake the winner’s hand. “Well played, sir. Very well played!”  
“Thank you.”  
“Yes, indeed,” Longstreet agreed. “It was almost worth not being in the game, just to be able to sit back and watch that round.”  
“Indeed, an excellent game,” Pierce mumbled, as he came around to dutifully shake the winner’s hand. “Never seen the like before.”  
Wyles and Bates also offered their congratulations and then quickly retreated to gather in what little they had left of their own chips.  
Dickson remained seated at the far end of the table. His jaw was set tight in anger. How could Hargitt have let that happen? That fool, going on about what a great poker player he was, and then he lets some lowlife ex-con beat him at his own game! What a chump. If only Dickson hadn’t been shut out early on, he would have given Heyes a run for his money. Now they’d all have to wait until next year, to get even. That’s if Dickson was even invited to come back again, next year. He hadn’t exactly left a good impression.  
Heyes and Hargitt both stood up, and Hargitt was able to compose himself enough to offer his hand to his opponent.   
“Very well play, Mr. Heyes,” he choked out. “I hope you will consider returning next year, so that we all may have a chance to redeem ourselves.”  
“Oh,” Heyes was hesitant as he looked to Mr. Waring. “I’d don’t know…”  
“Of course,” Waring assured him. “The winner is always invited to return the following year. It would be a pleasure to have you back again.”  
Heyes grin took over his face. “Thank you,” he said. “I will certainly keep it in mind.”  
“Well,” Waring announced. “Time to get these chips into a safe place, eh gentlemen?” He walked to the door and rapped gently upon in. It instantly opened and a deputy poked his head in. “We are done, Deputy. Time to get these chips sorted and counted.”  
“Yes sir.”  
Xxx  
Upon reaching the first landing, he stopped and listened for any sounds of pursuit. He cursed silently with the realization that he had taken too much time with the useless clerk. Now he didn’t know which way or how far up the chase had gone. Taking a deep breath, he reached inside his jacket and pulled his small pistol out of its shoulder holster, and listened some more.  
The hallway was darkened, but light coming up through the open center of the hotel helped to illuminate a great deal of the long corridor. Finney strained and listened, but he could not see or hear anything, other than the noise from the gambling down on the first level. Finally, he made the choice, and started up the stairway to the next landing.  
Again, there was nothing to suggest that the two men had gone this way. Following his instincts, and the knowledge that most people, when frightened and feeling trapped, will run to high ground, he decided to carry on up one more flight.  
On the third floor, he stopped and listened again. Then he heard it, the softest of sounds just when there was a lull in the activity downstairs. It sounded like a door closing, followed by the soft thump, thump of feet running along carpet. The sounds had come from the floor above, and grabbing the balustrade, the detective pulled himself around and started up the next flight of stairs.  
Just as he was starting up, a figure appeared at the top of the next landing, and both men stopped dead in their tracks. Surprise held Clancy in place as he gapped down at his second pursuer. Then his own pistol was in his hand, and he fired a wild shot down at the detective. Finney ducked as the bullet tore out a large splinter of wood from the railing, and then they were both on the run again.  
“Stop!” Finney yelled, more out of protocol, than expecting any positive results. “Scotland Yard!”  
As he expected, Clancy simply ran faster. Finney came up to the landing, then ducked to the side when he saw the young man ahead of him, twist around to fire again. The bullet whizzed by to embed itself somewhere in the woodwork behind the stairway. Finney carried on in pursuit, hoping that the shots had been heard over the gambling noise, but so far, nobody seemed to be reacting.  
And where the hell, was Jed!   
It was darker up on this level than it had been on the second floor, but Finney could still make out the form of the man running ahead of him. The figure was panicked, desperately trying different doors in the hopes of finding one unlocked. What help he thought that would be to him, was anyone’s guess, as Finney was close enough behind him to see which room he might duck into. But a desperate man will seek out a hiding place wherever he can find it.  
Checking the doors had slowed Clancy down, and Finney was catching up to him. Clancy knew he was at the end of his rope, and turning to face his pursuer, he raised his gun to fire again. But Finney was on to him by then. Ducking low and making a mad dash for Clancy’s mid-section, the detective hit home before the shot could be fired, and both men went to the ground.  
“I’m a detective from Scotland Yard!” Finney informed him. “You’re under arrest.”  
Clancy didn’t agree. He squirmed around and punched Finney in the face. Finney grunted and fell back, but recovered quickly. Both men scrambled to their feet, and before Clancy could start running again, Finney pushed him against the wall, then grabbing his shirt collar, pointed the pistol in his face.  
“Settle down!” Finney ordered him. “You’re under arrest. Now come along, quietly.”  
“Ya’ cannot arrest me!” Clancy gasped out. “I done nothin’ wrong!”  
“Aside from shootin’ at an officer of the law,” Finney pointed out. “and disguising your own natural accent for nefarious means.”  
“So were you!” Clancy pointed out. “And besides, that not be a crime!”  
“But cheatin’ at blackjack is.”  
“I was na’ cheatin! Yee canna prove it!”  
“I don’t need to prove it,” Finney pointed out. “All I need is somethin’ ta’ arrest ya’ for. And that’ll do it. Now come along. We’ve got a lot ta’ talk about.”  
Finney pulled Clancy away from the wall just as a thudding pain shot through the back of his skull. His vision exploded into stars as a sudden nausea attacked his stomach, and he dropped to his knees, fighting to stay conscious.   
“Bloody hell, boy!” came a second cockney accent to Finney’s ringing ears. “Lookit the mess ya got us inta’!”  
“What did I do?” Clancy whined. “I didn’t do nothin’!”  
“Shuddup!” the second voice snarled. “That’s the last time I listen ta’ my bloody sis. “Take yur nephew with ya’!” she said. “Show ‘im a good time!” she said. Blimey. Now were for it!”  
Finney felt himself being grabbed by the back of his jacket, and then hauled to his feet. His head spun, and he would have fallen again, if he hadn’t been shoved back up against the railing. His hands clutched behind him, at the wooden barrier between himself and oblivion, as he tried to get his vision to focus.  
His assailant grabbed his lapels and shook him.  
“Damn you, you bloody peeler,” the man snarled in his face. “How the hell did you track me all the way from London?”   
Finney squinted, his vision beginning to clear. He gazed at the mug of a face and thought for sure that the dim lighting and the knock on his head was playing tricks on him.  
“Tobias?” he questioned. “From the blackjack table, are ya’?”  
“Yeah,” Tobias confirmed. “One of my many names. But that ain’t the point!” And he gave Finney another rough shaking. “How the hell did ye’ find me?”  
Finney’s head was spinning from more than injury to his skull. They had zeroed in on Clancy as their man, but it turns out, Clancy was just the up and coming apprentice. Tobias had been their culprit all along.  
“Don’t want ta’ talk, eh?” Tobias snarked, and shook him again. “I see, no good citizens are rushin’ out a’ their rooms ta’ help ya’, so I figure I’ll just take care a’ business, right here and now. Grab ‘im, Charlie boy. Help me send our Scotland Yard man ta’ ‘is final restin’ place.”  
Charlie, nee Clancy, paled at the thought. “But Uncle Freddie, ya’ said there’d be no killin…”  
“Shuddup, ya’ bloody fool. Don’t be usin’ me real name. Now, give me a hand.”  
The sound of the hammer cocking back on a pistol is much the same in both continents. Now, that sound came to Uncle Freddie, clear as a bell, just as he felt the cold steel of Jed’s colt press into the nap of his neck.  
“I really don’t think you’re gonna be doin’ that,” Jed’s calm, but steady voice informed him. “Back off of him.”  
“Easy friend,” Freddie suggested as he raised his hands. “No need ta’ get hasty.”  
“I ain’t bein’ hasty,” Jed countered. “You alright, Kevin?”  
“Aye,” Finney confirmed, and picking up his own gun, from where it had fallen, he turned on Clancy. “It would seem that cheatin’ at blackjack is now the least of your problems.”  
Clancy groaned.  
Xxx  
Heyes walked out of the poker room feeling like he was walking on air, with his mind adrift in a swirling cloud of disbelief. The vacant look to his eyes and the foolish grin on his face might lead one to believe that he was imbecilic, but, of course, nothing could have been further from the truth.   
His eyes cleared and focused as he became aware of unusual activity in the lobby, especially for this early hour of the morning. There were a number of male guests, all looking ruffled and unkempt after their rude awakening from night slumbers. Other, more official looking gentlemen were speaking with several of the guests, and taking notes on what was being discussed.  
Heyes frowned, then his imbecilic grinned returned when he spotted his cousin coming towards him.  
“Hey,”  
Jed sent him a quizzical look, noting the odd expression on his face.   
“Heyes,” he returned the greeting. “How did it go?”   
“Kind of better than I expected.”   
“Yeah? Well, I ain’t surprised, considerin’ your competition. Did ya’ win enough ta’ bring us out on top?”  
Heyes’ smile grew, even though disbelief was still in his eyes.  
“Ah, yeah,” he breathed. “Closest I can figure, off hand, mind you, is $330,000.”  
Jed’s jaw dropped. “You won $330,000!?”  
“Yeah.”  
“In a poker game!?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Jeez, Heyes! What were we doin’, robbin’ banks all them years? You’re a rich man.”  
Heyes’ smile took over his face. “I feel like we should be hightailin’ it for Devel’s Hole, before the law catches on.”   
Jed grinned. “No foolin’. You sure don’t have ta’ worry about people accussin’ ya’ a’ bein’ a gold digger, now. You got more money than Miranda.”  
“Well, it’s not all mine, Kid.”  
Jed’s expression dropped. “It ain’t?”  
“No. I gotta pay back the $20,000 to Scotland Yard.”  
Jed puffed. “Pittance.”   
“Besides that, Jed, this was a job our company got hired to do,” Heyes pointed out. “I would never have gone into the game, if Finney hadn’t hired us. Therefore, according to Beth’s financial strategies for running a business, any profits get split into thirds. A third for you, and third for me, and a third goes back into the company.”  
Jed’s expression exploded into a twinkling grin again. “A third for me?”  
Heyes’ dimples danced, and he nodded energetically. “Yeah!” But now it was Heyes’ expression that dropped. “The only down side to the whole thing, is that I didn’t weed out our culprit. I don’t think he was in the game.”  
“Ahh, you’re right about that, Heyes,” Jed playfully agreed. “There was two of ‘em, and they were playin’ blackjack all along.”  
“Blackjack!?” Heyes was incredulous. “What were they doing playing blackjack?”  
“Not playin’ poker,” Jed smirked. “I spotted the younger of ‘em tryin’ ta’ cheat. You know what it’s like cheatin’ at blackjack—it’s kind’a obvious.”   
“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “Odd that they would even try it.”  
“Yeah, but this kid was young. He didn’t know what he was doin’,” Jed pointed out. “I suspected somethin’, so I got Finney to join us at the table, and he started pushin’ that youngster ta’ make a mistake. Like we was sayin’ before; that detective could’a caused us a lot of grief, back in the day.”  
“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “So it worked?”  
“Sure did. The kid broke under the pressure. Finney tricked ‘im inta’ droppin’ his fake accent, and once he’d done that, he panicked and ran. I lost ‘im up on the fifth floor, but Finney found him again. Thing is, that’s when we found out that there was another one on the loose, and he was the more dangerous of the two. They was all set ta’ throw Finney off the fourth floor when I came upon ‘em. That sure would’a made a fine mess, right in the middle of the luncheon lounge.”  
Both men looked over at the exquisite tables and chairs, all covered in plush white upholstery and fancy linens.  
“Yeah,” Heyes agreed, cryptically, then looked around at the now thinning crowd in the lobby. “So, where is he?”  
“Oh, he kind’a got a knock on the head,” Jed explained. “Doc’s takin’ a look at ‘im. The sheriff has already taken the two prisoners over to the jailhouse. Not sure what’s gonna happen to ‘em now. I expect we’ll learn more tomorrow. Or I should say, later today. You hungry?”  
“No,” Heyes emphasized. “Tired.”  
“Good. Me too,” Jed agreed. “I sure can’t pull off these all-nighters like we used to. Why don’t we both get some shut eye, and we can meet up fer a late breakfast later. Maybe Finney will have some news for us by then.”  
Heyes nodded agreement. Now that the euphoria of his big win was wearing off, he was exhausted. “Good idea, Kid. I’ll see ya’ later.”  
Xxx  
Heyes quietly snuck into their room. Like many of the hotel guests, Miranda had apparently slept through the excitement of the big chase along the corridors. She was snuggled into the blankets, sound asleep and with a soft snore going.  
Heyes smiled, and quickly striping down, he settled in under the covers. Miranda shifted slightly and moaned as half of her consciousness returned to her. Heyes wrapped his arms around her and kissed the nap of her neck.  
“Mmm,” she murmured. “What time is it?”  
“Early,” Heyes whispered. “Go back to sleep.”  
“How did it go?”  
“Good,” he said. “I’ll tell you all about it, over lunch.”  
“Okay.”  
“Wake me at 11:00.”  
“Okay.”  
Xxx  
Jed, Steven and Bridget were already seated in the open café on the third floor of the Brown Palace when Hannibal and Miranda put in an appearance. Bridget instantly jumped up and ran, in a most unladylike manner, to embrace her dear friend.  
“Hannibal!” she squealed. “Jed has been telling us all about it! $330,000! I can’t believe it. You and Jed are set for life. Oh Beth will be so thrilled. What a shame she’s not here.”  
Heyes returned the enthusiastic greeting and then, they all sat down at the table.  
“Congratulations to both of you,” Steven said. “You fellas are developing quite the reputation. A good reputation, I should say!”  
“Yes,” Heyes smiled. “I still don’t quite believe it. But I checked the bank account before meeting you here, and sure enough the money is there.”  
“Don’t worry,” Miranda teased him. “It won’t take you long to get used to being a wealthy man. You’ve seen how well I have adjusted to it.”  
“And you won’t have a freeloading husband on your hands anymore,” Heyes countered.  
“You were never that!” Randa insisted. “You always worked hard, and I expect that you will continue to do so. I can’t imagine either one of you just sitting around and doing nothing.”  
“I can,” Heyes countered, with a grin.  
“Yep, so can I,” Jed concurred. “But…I guess we won’t. A little too young to retire, and besides, I think havin’ our own business is workin’ out kind’a well at the moment.”  
“Sure is.”  
“I’m really lookin’ forward ta’ taken Beth out and buyin’ her some of them things we couldn’t afford to get before,” Jed announced. “Maybe I’ll bring her back here. There really ain’t anything in Brookswood that compares.”  
“Oh, please do!” Bridget insisted. “I miss her.”  
“You folks are coming out for Thanksgiving, aren’t you?” Heyes asked them. “And Christmas?”  
“I expect so,” Steven concurred. “One of them, at least.”  
“Oh, I know,” Bridget intervened. “But it’s so much more fun having her here. Like you said, Jed, Brookswood doesn’t offer the same shops and restaurants that Denver does.”  
Hannibal and Jed exchanged smiles.  
“Looks like you’re committed,” Heyes told him.  
“Yeah, sure does.”  
“Oh!” Steven announced. “There’s Mr. Finney.”  
“Oh.” Heyes turned in his chair and gestured towards the Yard man. “Mr. Finney! Over here.”  
Finney nodded and headed their way, the host for the café quickly catching up and taking the lead. He wouldn’t want his boss to think that he had been slacking.  
“Here you are, sir,” the host said, as he pulled out the empty chair for Finney. “I will send the waiter right over. Our lunch special today is pheasant with a raspberry sauce, roasted chestnuts, long grain rice and fresh seasonal vegetables. We have a lovely chardonnay that compliments the pheasant, or, if the gentlemen prefer, a French merlot.”  
“Thank you,” Heyes told him. “We will certainly consider that.”  
“Indeed, sir.”  
The host bowed his head and departed, leaving the friends to continue with their conversation.   
“You’re looking a little worse for wear,” Heyes observed. “Jed said you took a bump on the head.”  
“Aye,” Finney concurred. “But that wasn’t so bad. I’ve been over at the sheriff’s office all morning, having a lovely chat with our two guests. I haven’t had much sleep.”  
Hannibal and Jed exchanged smiles.  
“I can certainly understand that,” Heyes agreed.  
“Yep,” Jed sympathized. “I know what I’m gonna be doin’ on the train ride home.”  
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” their waiter announced his presence. “My name is James, and I will be serving you, today. Would you like to place a drink order?”  
“Oh, yes,” Heyes agreed, and looked to his wife to order first.   
“Oh!” Miranda looked surprised. “I must admit; I don’t care much for chardonnay. Something light and crisp, I think. The viognier was lovely, if you still have that.”   
“Of course, Ma’am.”  
“Well, I love chardonnay,” Bridget announced. “I will have a glass of that.”  
James nodded, as he wrote down the selections.  
“I’ll have the merlot,” Steven said.  
“I’ll have a beer,” came Jed’s request.  
“Just tea for me, my good man,” Finney stated. “I’m going to be up for a while yet. I’m afraid, any alcohol now would only be a deterrent.”  
“Oh, Mr. Finney, are you sure?” Heyes asked, disappointment creeping into his voice. “I wanted to treat everyone, before we all went our separate ways.”  
Finney smiled. “Do not concern yourself, Mr. Heyes. I’ll take you up on some fine cognac later this evening. How is that?”  
Heyes grinned. “Fair enough. For myself, I’ll have the merlot.”  
“Very fine choices,” James said, just as he said to all his guests. “I’ll return shortly with your drinks.”  
“Mr. Finney,” Miranda asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. “Have you been able to find out anything about your two culprits?”   
“Oh yes,” Finney responded, with a satisfied smile. “As is often the case with the criminal classes, young Charlie was so terrified of spending the rest of his life in prison, that he was happy to turn on his uncle.”  
“Well, it’s not always the case,” Heyes grumbled.  
Finney smiled over at him. “Quite right, Mr. Heyes. Present company excluded. As I recall, you remained extremely loyal to your compatriots. I was of course, speaking in general, and of a class of criminal far beneath the standards of yourself and your partner.”  
Miranda grinned, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, good save, Mr. Finney. Well done.”  
“Thank you.”  
“But what did you find out?” Bridget asked. “Are they the men you were looking for?”  
“Oh, aye,” Finney informed them all. “Fred Utley is indeed the man we were seeking. Apparently, things were getting hot for him in England, and since he’d always wanted to have a go at the big poker game here, he decided it was time for a transcontinental sea voyage.”  
“This game is known in England?” Heyes asked, surprised.  
“Aye,” Finney concurred. “And it’s no wonder. When there is an opportunity to walk away with over $100,000, just as you did last night, word spreads to those who practice the game.”  
“Yes, I suppose,” Heyes agreed. “I guess, it never occurred to me that word would travel that far.”  
“Ah yes,” Finney insisted. “You may be surprised to know that even yourself and Mr. Curry are becoming the heroes of some of the more popular Wild West novels to travel across the waters.”  
“Oh yeah?” asked Jed. “We’re getting’ known, even over there?”  
“Aye. Though with much embellishment on the truth, I’m sure.”  
“No doubt,” Heyes agreed.  
Jed grinned, his blue eyes alight with mischief. “Maybe we could travel over there and put on shows. They’re sure enough popular here.”  
Heyes rolled his eyes. Jed ignored him.  
“We could have posters made up, and sell replicas of your hatband.”  
“My hatband!?” Heyes was incredulous. “Why would anyone want a replica of my hatband?”  
“I donno, Heyes,” Jed admitted. “But you sure do seem ta’ like it. Hell, we could start doin’ shows right here. Or back East. They sure do have a fascination with outlaws, back East.”  
Heyes snorted. “I think I’ll stick to our current profession.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “It does seem to be working out pretty well for us, so far.”  
“Have you told Jed about Nathanial?” Miranda asked her husband.  
“Oh!” Heyes brightened up even more. “No, I forgot, with everything else going on.”  
“What about Nathan?” Jed asked. “He was fine when I left.”  
“No, not Nathanial Gibson,” Heyes corrected him. “Nathanial Brenner.”  
“Who?”  
“Remember I told you about that young boy who was on the train, when Morrison was transporting me back to Wyoming for trial?”  
“Yeah,” Jed concurred.   
“Well, we ran into him, in Santa Marta,” Heyes continued. “Actually, he kind of ran into us. He’s a young man now, on vacation with his parents before he heads back East to begin collage. He’s going to be majoring in the American West. Outlaws in particular. He says he wants to write his final thesis paper on me.”  
Everybody’s brows went up in surprise.  
“What!?” Jed almost sounded incensed. “Well that’s just great. It ain’t like ya’ ain’t got a big enough ego as it is. Now yer gonna have some book written about ya’?”  
“Double negative, Kid.”  
“What!”  
“Never mind. And it’s not a book, just a thesis paper. But it’s still an honor. And you’ll be in it too, ya’ know. Can’t have one without the other.”  
“Uh huh,” Jed didn’t sound convinced. “And just when is this gonna happen? You gonna move back East ta’ help ‘im write this thing?”  
“No!” Heyes insisted. “He’s coming out here, next summer.”  
“Oh yeah?” Jed asked. “Where’s he gonna stay? There sure won’t be room at your place, not with a new baby an’ all.”  
“Yeah, I know,” Heyes agreed. “I haven’t figured that part out yet. But I’ll think of something. C’mon, Kid. It’ll be fun.”  
“Well, we’ll see,” Jed conceded. “So long as you don’t go getting’ too full ‘a yourself. You can be real insufferable sometimes, Heyes.”  
Heyes grinned, his full dimpled charm dazzling forth.  
“I think that’s great,” Steven put in. “I have to admit, it would be nice to get your story right from you two fellas, rather than those silly dime novels. I mean, a lot certainly came out at the trials, but I have a feeling the lives you two led were far more intricate than what was revealed there.”  
“Yes,” Bridget agreed. “Just listening to some of the stories Clementine has told us, or just hinted at, suggests that there’s a lot more there than meets the eye.”  
Miranda sat back and smiled. “Yes,” she said. “It will make for some very interesting reading.”  
“Oh boy,” Jed grumbled. “And you can bet that Beth will want to read it. You know, Heyes, we could get into a lot of trouble over this.”  
“Hmm,” Heyes nodded agreement. “I’ll have to be careful. Still, I want to do Nathan justice for his paper, and be honest about it.”  
“Oh sure!” Jed griped. “Be honest! Now’s a fine time ta’ pick up a new trait.”  
“I’m just as honest as you are, Kid.”  
“I for one, would be very interested in reading it,” Finney cut in on this typical sparing. “It could be extremely informative for us at Scotland Yard. It could become our new handbook on criminal activity.”  
Fortunately, before further comments could be made, James arrived to deliver the drinks and take the lunch orders.  
“Oh dear,” Heyes muttered. “We haven’t even discussed that. Would everyone just like to go with the special?”  
There was a round of enthusiastic agreement to that suggestion, and James departed to take care of business.  
“Back to the subject of the current criminals,” Steven started up the new conversation. “Will you be transporting them back to England to stand trial?”  
“Ultimately, yes,” Finney informed him. “It may take some time to get the extradition papers organized, and the sheriff wants to make sure there are no crimes here, for which they need to face charges for. In the meantime, they will both be held at the prison in Canon City, until their passage over-seas can be arranged.”  
“That could take months,” Steven said. “Will you be remaining here, all that time?”  
“Oh heavens, no,” Finney assured him. “Once I have my report completed, I will return home. Thankfully, it will fall to others to escort the prisoners back. My job here is nearly completed.”   
“Yeah,” Jed agreed to some extent. “but they nearly killed you last night. At least, Uncle Freddie did. If he gets charged for that, won’t you have to stay and testify?”  
“Aye, I would,” Finney agreed. “But I won’t be layin’ charges against him for that, until they arrive back home. I’ll get a written statement from you, Mr. Curry, as a witness to that event, and that will be presented in court when they go to trial.”  
“What about the younger man?” Miranda asked. “Do you think he’ll do much time?”  
“No,” Finney admitted. “He’s not the criminal his uncle is. He wouldn’t even ‘a been here, but his mother begged her brother, Freddie, to bring the lad on an adventure to the States. She wasn’t aware, you see, of her brother’s nefarious activities, and thought that it would be a grand experience for the lad. I’m afraid, she was right. But not in the way she imagined. Still, perhaps a good lesson for him. He’s a very frightened young man right now, and some time in prison here, might do him a world ‘a good.”  
Heyes grimaced, but made no comment. Finney still caught the response.  
“He’ll be treated fine, Mr. Heyes,” the Yard man assured the ex-con. “The warden will be informed of the situation, and keep a special eye on him. On both of them. We want those two back in England, safe and sound.”  
Heyes smiled and nodded. “Of course.”  
“But why were they here in the first place?” Steven asked. “I thought the whole idea of Hannibal being in that game, was to weed them out. But they weren’t even in the game.”  
“Ah yes, you’re quite correct there, sir,” Finney told him. “It seems that they had managed an invitation into the game, but then got word that an undercover agent would be present, trying to trick them up, so they withdrew. Little did they know that by entering the game, they had blocked Mr. Heyes from joining in, and by withdrawing, they opened up the window for him and Mr. Dickson to proceed. They really did hang themselves. If they had remained in, they would have shut Mr. Heyes out, and perhaps taken home a great deal of money.”  
“So they weren’t planning on scamming the game at all?” Heyes asked. “Just enter into it as an honest player, like everyone else?”  
“So it would seem,” Mr. Finney concurred. “And let’s face it, the new security measures would have deterred any attempt at a con. And another coincidence, is that those security measures were mainly brought about because of your last inclusion in the game, Mr. Heyes. It seems your old gang were doing you a favor, even back then.”  
“Good ole’ Wheat and Kyle,” Heyes grinned. “Loyal to the end.”  
“Uh huh,” Jed sounded skeptical of the ultraistic motives. “Ehh! Here comes lunch!” he announced.  
Xxx  
Later, that evening, while Bridget and Miranda were visiting with Clementine, the gentlemen were relaxing in the lounge at the Brown Palace. As far as Heyes was concerned, he owed Mr. Finney a cognac, and he wasn’t about to renege on the promise.   
All four men sat back in the comfy arm chairs and allowed the aroma and the flavor of the warm alcohol take over their senses.  
“This is nice,” Jed admitted. “Thanks, Heyes.”  
“You’re welcome,” Heyes returned. “You’re looking better, this evening, Mr. Finney. Did you finally get some sleep?”  
“Yes,” Finney informed them. “But I’ll have no trouble sleeping tonight, either. Tomorrow is going to be another busy day.”  
“I’m sure it will,” Steven agreed. “When do you expect to be heading home?”  
“Early next week,” Finney told him.   
“It’s going to be a cold sea voyage, this time of year,” Heyes commented.  
“Aye, well, there’s nothing for it,” Finney accepted the inevitable. “Fortunately, I have no problem with sea travel. I expect to be spending most of my time, in my cabin, catching up on paper work. Or reading.”  
“In the meantime,” Steven said. “You’ll have to come over to our place for dinner. You can meet Clementine.”  
Both Jed and Hannibal snorted, almost upsetting their cognac.  
“Oh great!” Jed laughed. “Can we come and watch?”  
“Oh now, Kid,” Heyes interjected. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”  
“Why would there be a problem?” Finney asked, innocently. “Is this woman unsavory?”  
“No, no,” Heyes assured him. “She just—uninhibited.”  
Jed snorted again.  
Heyes smiled, but turned sincere again. “No, she’s alright, Mr. Finney. She doesn’t hold with convention, is all. A free spirit, you might say. I’m sure you’ll enjoy meeting her.”  
“She sounds intriguing,” Finney agreed. “I’ll look forward to it.”  
“Speaking of free spirits,” Heyes asked, though he sounded hesitant in the asking. “Have you heard any more from Julia?”  
Finney grinned. “Oh, aye,” he admitted. “I felt reluctant to bring it up over lunch, as I don’t know how accepting your wife is of your previous romances.”  
“Another previous romance, Heyes?” Jed asked, with a twinkle. “Ya’ didn’t tell me about that one.”  
“Sure I did.”  
“No, ya’ didn’t.”  
“Sure. On that same expedition into Devil’s Hole. The young English woman who was pretending to be Mr. Finney’s wife. I told ya’ about her.”  
“Yeah, ya’ told me about the English woman pretending to be Mr. Finney’s wife, but ya’ never said anything about you an’ her, getting’…you know.”  
“Sure I did.”  
“No, ya’ didn’t.”  
“I didn’t?”  
“No!”  
“Oh. Well, we did. But, she was heading back East, and well, you know what our situation was. So…” he shrugged to end that thought.  
“Yeah.”  
“Anyway, Mr. Finney,” Heyes continued. “You have heard from her? How is she?”  
“Her father passed away some years ago, and she returned to England to attend to his affairs,” Finney informed him. “She has a good income through her inheritance and decided to stay.”  
“Oh,” Heyes nodded approval. “So, she never married?”  
“Aye, she did, briefly. But the man turned out to be a scoundrel and a gold digger. Fortunately, she became wise to him, and had the marriage annulled.”  
“Ahh!” Heyes grinned and nodded. “Good for her. Ah, does she know, about…?”  
“You?” Finney finished the enquiry.  
“Yes.”  
“No, she does not,” Finney informed him. “Would you like me to inform her?”  
Heyes pondered this. “I think I will write her a letter,” he finally decided. “Let her know the real reason, we couldn’t be together, and, everything else. If you would be so kind to deliver it to her when you return, I would appreciate that.”  
“Of course,” Finney agreed. “We have remained in touch on a casual basis.”  
“Thank you.”  
“So, will you and Jed be heading home in the morning?” Steven asked  
“Yes,” both men answered at the same time.  
“There’s still a lot to do, to get the ranch back up and running after that fire,” Jed commented. “And Jesse ain’t in no condition ta’ be doin’ much of it, himself. Sam will be helpin’ ‘im, but their other hired hand, Ben, is still in the hospital here, recovering from his burns. At least he’s gonna make it, though. For a while there, it was touch and go. Not to mention, I don’t like bein’ away from Beth and T.J. for long. I get ta’ missin’ ‘em too much.”  
“That’s good about Ben,” Heyes said, then smiled and admitted, “I do miss our daughter as well. And, with the new one due this winter, we have some preparations to make to the house. Some re-organizing is in store for us, I think.”  
“Ahh, wedded bliss,” said Finney. “What a wonderful state to be in.  
Heyes raised his glass for one more toast. “Home,” he said. “May it always be a good place to come back to.”  
“Indeed!”   
“Yeah, to home.”  
“Aye.”  
Everyone tapped glasses. 

To Be Continued


	19. More Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Miranda arrive home, but things aren't settled yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I lied. This isn't the last chapter, after all. There were more loose ends to tie up than I realized, and, as usual, things got carried away.

More Loose Ends

 

“Mr. Finney,” Heyes said, as he enthusiastically shook the detectives hand. “It was a pleasure working with you again. Please, let me know anytime I can sit in on a poker game, to help you out.”

Finney smiled, taking note of the mischievous glint in the younger man’s eyes. “Oh aye, Mr. Heyes. I’ll be sure to do that. And if you’re ever on my side of the world, drop by Scotland Yard. I’d be pleased to introduce you around.”

“Ahh, would we get a friendly welcome?” Jed asked. “They might not take too kindly to a pair ‘a American outlaws comin’ ta’ visit.”

“No, no,” Finney denied, as he shook Jed’s hand. “After the caper we pulled off here, I think you can rest assured that you both would be quite welcome.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jed still sounded dubious.

“Thank you, Mr. Finney,” Heyes responded. “If we’re ever over your way, we’ll keep that in mind.”

“Fine, fine.”

The train’s engine let out a loud whistle, and the humming of the locomotive increased to a more urgent tempo. Those people, who were still on the platform, quickly completed their farewells, and there was a sudden scurrying of passengers getting on board, before the conveyance chugged into motion.

“Time to board up,” Jed announced. “C’mon, Heyes.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

Jed nodded and climbed aboard. He disappeared inside the passenger car, going in search of Miranda, and leaving Heyes and Finney to say final farewells.

“We always seem to be saying goodbye at train stations,” Heyes commented.

“It is the place for journeys to begin, or end.”

“True enough,” Heyes conceded. “It was a pleasure to work with you, Mr. Finney. Although, it seems that Jed was more of an asset to you than I was.”

“Aye, he did a fine job,” Finney agreed. “I begin to see why you two gentlemen were so successful at your previous career.”

Heyes laughed. “Hopefully, we’ll be just as successful at our current one.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Finney hesitated, but then, knowing that they were running out of time, he pushed onwards. “I have to say, when your young friend has completed his thesis essay, I would very much like a copy of it. As I said before, it will make for some very interesting reading. Would you be able to arrange that for me?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Heyes agreed. “I have a feeling, there will be a few people wanting to read that, once it gets published.”

“I’m sure there will be.”

“You have my letter to Julia?”

“Safe and sound,” Finney assured him. “She’ll be pleased to hear from you.”

“Thank you. Oh, here we go.”

The train gave a gentle lurch and puffed into motion. Heyes grabbed hold of the hand railing and stepped aboard.

“Goodbye, Mr. Finney. Safe journey home.”

“And you as well, Mr. Heyes.”

Finney continued to stand on the platform for a few minutes, watching the train pick up speed as it headed away from the depot. A small smile tugged at his mouth, as he again thought how fortunate it was that he’d had other irons in the fire, the first time he had met Mr. Heyes. It would have been a shame, indeed, to have these two men as adversaries rather than allies.

Xxx

Heyes walked down the aisle, swaying with the gentle motion of the train while keeping his eyes focused on spotting his travelling companions. He picked up on a sudden motion near the back of the car and smiled an acknowledgement to Randa. He made his way to their seats and sat down beside her, facing the Kid.

“Last leg of the journey,” he stated. “I’m ready for it.”

“Oh, me too,” Randa agreed. “It’ll be good to get home.”

“Uh huh,” Jed agreed. “But in the mean time, I’m gonna catch a nap. That was a long night, and I still ain’t caught up from it.”

“Hmm, I know what you mean,” Heyes reluctantly agreed. “A nap sounds like a good idea.”

Miranda sighed. Both men looked at her.

“What?” asked Jed. “You didn’t just spend all night, stayin’ awake and playin’ cards. Not ta’ mention, chasin’ thieves and conmen, and potential murderers up and down the hallways of the Brown Palace. I’ve had a busy night.”

“You’ve also had a night since then, to catch up,” Miranda pointed out.

“Well, it ain’t enough,” Jed insisted. “Give me a nudge when we get ta’ Brookswood, will ya’?”

And with that, he stretched out upon the seat as much as it would allow, pulled his hat over his eyes and took himself out of the conversation.

Heyes yawned.

“Oh, you too?” his wife complained. “I guess I’m up for a quiet ride home.”

“Oh no,” Heyes said, as he stifled another yawn. “I’m awake.”

Miranda smiled at his sweet show of chivalry. “Don’t worry about. Get a nap. Goodness knows we won’t have much time for that, once Sally gets home.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I guess I could…”

Within minutes, the soft, rhythmic breathing of sleep had taken over their sitting area. Miranda smiled to herself and gazed out the window at the familiar scenic view, as the train kept up a steady clackity-clack, on the way towards their hometown. It was nice to be sitting there, in the quiet. Even the other passengers were settled and scene gazing rather than engaging in conversation. And, thank goodness, there were no small children on board!

She frowned, as she realized what she had just thought. What did that forebode? Here she was, expecting for the first time in her life, and she was thankful that there were no children around? What kind of mother was she going to be? Shouldn’t her maternal instinct be kicking into overdrive right about now? Shouldn’t she be lighting up with pleasure at every infant she saw? Instead, she was avoiding them, as usual. Oh dear, what had she gotten herself into?

The soft smile came back to her lips, as Hannibal shifted, and his head lolled gently onto her shoulder. She reached over and took his hand in hers, and gave it a loving squeeze. He sighed as she felt his fingers tighten on hers and then relax again. He was asleep.

Why had she married Hannibal? At the time of their engagement, both of them had still been deeply in love with someone else. And yet, they had been so strongly drawn to one another. It was as though some instinct, or intuition, or higher power, had known that they would be good for one another; that in this now, time and space, they were each what the other needed to continue on.

The after dinner gathering of the poker wives had raised some interesting questions in Miranda’s mind. At first, she had found the gossipy questions a little irritating. Just fluff and fantasy; nothing to do the with real situation at all. But then, she began to wonder. Why had she taken such a risk? Had she been so naïve that she really thought everything would work out fine? That there was no risk involved? And to take on a child, the same day of their marriage! Talk about locking herself in, without really knowing the risks involved.

What was it about Hannibal, that had made her trust him so completely? Some people say, that if you want to know what a man will be in his future, then take a look at his past. Ha! If she had studied that too closely, she would have headed for the hills. It’s one thing to know through the grapevine, who and what Hannibal had once been, but to actually study it, to become a part of it, would that have scared her off? She thought, whimsically, that it was likely a good thing, that Nathan Brenner was writing his thesis sometime in the future, rather than in the past. Knowing too much about Hannibal back then, would not have been a good thing.

But she had known enough. And the people who knew her best, knew that she was not a foolish woman who was easily seduced by a handsome man. She laughed out loud, then stifled it, when she received a few curious glances from other passengers. As she had told the poker wives, Hannibal had not been a handsome man, when she first met him, so it certainly hadn’t been that.

Could a person’s true soul really come through like that, upon first meeting them? Or was it because there had already been some connection between them? Some knowledge of one another that could not be explained in the physical world? It had certainly felt that way. She had known, instantly, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it, that this man was going to be important in her life. And that knowledge had over-ruled any caution or doubt in her soul, even if her mind kept asking questions. 

And now here she was, married to a wonderful scoundrel, with one child at home and another on the way. This was when the doubt hit her. Not about her husband’s fidelity, but about her own ability as a mother. This up-coming year was going to prove to be interesting.

Xxx

Miranda gave her husband a nudge.

“Hmm,” he asked, groggily. “What?”

“We’re here.”

“Oh.” Heyes sat up, blinking his eyes against the sunlight. He looked out the window and saw that, indeed, the train was pulling in to the familiar Brookswood station. “I didn’t think I’d sleep the whole way.”

“Obviously, you were tired.”

“Yeah.” Heyes straightened and reaching over with his booted foot, gave his cousin a kick on the shin. “Wake up!”

Jed jumped, his hand going for his holster. The first thing he saw was his cousin’s ginning face, and he groaned as he straightened up. “When are ya’ gonna stop doin’ that?”

“Doing what?” Heyes asked, as his dimples dripped innocence.

Jed simply sent him a dirty look, then he stretched and yawned. “Wow. I guess I was tired.”

“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “I can’t believe that ya’ slept the whole way.”

Miranda smiled but kept any comments to herself. Jed knew his cousin well enough to know when he was being teased and was quite capable of dealing with the man, himself.

“Yeah, like you didn’t,” Jed commented.

“Me?”

“Heyes, I know what ya’ look like when ya’ first wake up,” Jed pointed out. “You ain’t pullin’ one over on me.”

“Oh. Well, perhaps I did fall asleep there, near the end.”

“Uh huh.”

“Brookswood, Colorado, folks!” Came the porter’s announcement as he made his way down the aisle. He smiled as he noticed his regular customers. “Welcome back, Mr. Heyes. Ma’am. Have a good trip, did ya’?”

“Yes, we did, Martin,” Miranda told him. “Thank you.”

“Good to hear it.” He tipped his hat and carried on his way, continuing to announce the stop.

“Geesh,” Jed complained, as they all stood up to disembark. “He didn’t welcome me home.”

“You haven’t been gone a month,” Heyes pointed out.

“I know, but still…”

The friends gathered up their carry on luggage and stepped out onto the platform. It was rather quiet, being the middle of a week day, and no one else seemed to be getting off the train at this stop. Not really surprising, as Brookswood was still a relatively small town. It can get busy enough on the weekends, and on special holidays, but normally, the train only made a short stop and there was very little travelling activity.

They spied their heavier luggage being transferred into the depot and made their way over there in order to retrieve it.

“You’ll spend the night at our place, Jed?” Miranda asked. “We’ll be taking the buggy out to the Double J tomorrow to pick up Sally, so you can come out with us.”

“Yep, that’d be fine,” Jed agreed. “Oh! There’s Levi.”

The young deputy smiled as he spied the group. “Howdy folks,” he greeted them. “Sheriff Morin sent me over to collect your belongins’ for ya’. I got the buckboard right out on the street there. I can load your luggage up and take it wherever ya’ want.”

“Just to our home, would be fine, Deputy,” Heyes told him. “We’ll take Jed out to his place, tomorrow.”

“Okay.”  
“Ahh…” Heyes hesitated to ask. “Sheriff Morin?”

“Yeah, well, temporary, for now,” Levi explained. “Until we can get an election organized. Truth be told, I don’t see the point. Everybody’s just gonna vote for Joe anyways. Why waste money on an election.”

“I thought Joe wanted to go back East and study criminology,” Heyes commented.

“Yep, he does,” Jed confirmed. “But he don’t wanna leave the town short-handed, neither. I expect he’ll stay on, until the town can elect another sheriff. You and Max are workin’ out fine, as deputies, ain’t ya’?”

“Yeah,” Levi concurred as they started loading luggage onto the buckboard. “I expect we’ll both stay on, unless the new sheriff has other ideas. Hope not though, it’s a good job.”

“Who’s going to be running for the office?” Heyes asked, as he lifted the last of the cases into the wagon.

Levi shrugged. “Nobody, as far as I know. Joe, I mean, Sheriff Morin might just win by default. Whether he wants to or not.”

Heyes snorted. “He could end up getting life, if he’s not careful.”

“Maybe,” Jed agreed. “That’s what happens when people like ya’.”

“Ma’am,” Levi tipped his hat to Miranda. “Would you like to ride up front with me?”

“Yes, thank you,” Randa accepted.

Hannibal was quick to come around and help his wife up onto the seat, then he and Jed hopped into the back with the luggage, and the buckboard jerked into motion.

The fifteen-minute jog through town was filled with many residents calling out and waving their greetings to the returning honeymooners, and Randa was quick to smile and wave back. It sure was nice to be made to feel welcome in this town that they had chosen to call home. It really was a fine place to live.

“Miranda!” 

“Oh! Tricia!” Randa called back, smiling with pleasure at seeing her cousin again. “Stop, Levi!”

“Whoa.” Levi pulled the team to a halt.

Tricia ran up to them and took her cousin’s hand in greeting. “Oh my goodness! Look at you! You’re all tanned, you floosy!”

Both ladies laughed.

“You’re looking lovely, yourself,” Miranda said. “It’s so good to see you.”  
“Come to dinner, tonight,” Tricia invited them. “I’m sure you’re tired after your journey, and you’ll need some time to get your home up and running again. You and Hannibal will come, won’t you? And you too, Jed, of course.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jed accepted. “We got some news. But, maybe I should tell Beth first.”

Tricia’s eyes lit up with a mischievous sparkled. “What news?” she demanded to know.

“We’ll tell you over supper,” Heyes interjected. “It’ll be kind of hard to keep it a secret, now.”

“Oh, you evil people,” Tricia laughed. “And you’re going to make me wait until this evening, aren’t you!”

“Yep,” Jed concurred.

“How is David doing?” Heyes asked. “Knowing him, I expect he was pretty cut up after what happened.”

“Yes,” Tricia agreed. “He’s doing better than he was, but he could do with the company of friends, right now. He’ll be pleased to see you.”

“We’ll be there,” Heyes told her. “Just give us some time to get settled in, and unpacked. We’re coming home with a lot more luggage than we left with.”

Tricia laughed again. “I’m sure you are; with all those wonderful places you went to. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Now, I must be off and finish shopping. See you later.”

“Bye,” Randa said, and waved, as her cousin stepped back up onto the boardwalk and continued on.

The buckboard jolted back into motion, and they headed for home.

Xxx

“What’s all this?” Miranda asked no-one in particular, as they ascended the steps to the porch.

Their way was blocked by a number of boxes, a bassinette and a bouquet of flowers that was propped up against the door. There was an envelope nestled in amongst the blossoms, and Miranda picked it out of the arrangement and opened up the note.

“Welcome home,” she read. “Here are some items that we hope will come in handy in your new life. The Brookswood Ladies Auxiliary.” She smiled and looked back at the three men who were hauling the luggage up onto the porch. “Look at this!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it. How kind of everyone. Did you know about this, Jed?”

“Well yeah, kind’a,” Jed admitted. “But I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Wow,” Hannibal commented, as he opened a couple of the boxes. “Baby clothes, small blankets and some toys. Why would they do this?”

Jed shrugged. “This is how folks are, when you’re part of a community. It took me a while to get used ta’ it, too. But it’s nice. Most folks wanna help out. When ya’ ain’t usin’ stuff no more, well, then ya’ pass it on ta’ someone who can use it. Besides, your house came in real handy during the fire. I guess everybody wanted ta’ thank ya’ for that, too.”

Heyes smiled and met the Kid’s eye. Being part of a community was a whole different way of life from what they used to consider normal.

“Oh, here’s some tea, and biscuits,” Randa announced when she opened up another box. “Perfect. I’ll put some on, while you boys get the luggage in.”

Miranda opened the door and entered her home. She sighed contentedly.

“Home,” she said. “It’s as if we’d never left.”

“All this luggage suggests that we went somewhere, and bought something,” Hannibal contradicted her. “I swear, we have twice as much now as what we left with.”

Miranda laughed. “Yes. Probably. Will you stay for tea as well, Levi?”

“Oh, no thank you, ma’am,” Levi declined. “I’m still workin’, and the sheriff wants me back at the office.”

“Oh, alright. Thank you for your assistance.”

“No problem, ma’am. Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry.”

“Well, thank you, Levi,” Heyes said. “Tell Joe, we’ll be over to pester him, once we get settled.”

“Oh.” Levi wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Okay.”

Heyes and Jed got busy bringing in all the luggage and boxes, while Miranda pumped water for the flowers and the kettle. Tea was soon in the making.

Xxx

Miranda opened the door of the Gibson household and the three new arrivals were instantly hit with the enticing aroma of pork roasting with herbs and sweet apples. After all the fancy restaurant food Miranda and Hannibal had been eating, a good country home dinner set their mouths to watering.

“Hello!” Miranda called out.

“Oh, come in,” Tricia responded from the kitchen, as she set a fresh salad down onto the table. “Are you settled in?”

“Somewhat,” Randa told her. “There are still a few new things we need to find a place for, but we’re getting there.”

“I’m sure,” Tricia concurred, with a smile. “David and Nathan are in the…” Her statement was cut off by the sound of running feet coming from the living room. “Oh, never mind.”

“Hi!” Nathan greeted the company. “Did you bring me anything?”

“Nathanial Gibson!” his mother scolded him. “You know better than that. Apologize for your rudeness.”

Nathan dropped his eyes and shuffled his feet. “Sorry.” Then his eyes lifted, as hope shone eternal.

Hannibal laughed. “As a matter of fact, we did,” he admitted, and handed the child a small box, tied with string.

Nathan’s already bright eyes widened with excitement, and snatching the package, he turned and ran back down the hallway, shouting a distracted “Thank you!” as he went.

Tricia sighed and slumped. “I swear, that boy is like a brick wall; nothing gets through.”

“Aww, he’s just got lots of energy,” Hannibal commented. “Always has.”

“Takes after his pa, I’d say,” Jed observed. “Always has.”

Tricia rolled her eyes.

“Hello,” David greeted their guests as he entered the kitchen. “I see you’ve already received the official welcome from the man of the house.”

“Hi David,” Heyes responded as a huge smile presented itself. The two men shook hands. “How are you doing?”

“Alright, considering,” the doctor told him. “A lot has gone on, since you two have been away.”

Miranda came up to David and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, we know,” she affirmed. “What a month it has been. We were so sorry to hear.”

A sadness drifted across the doctor’s face, but he hid it quickly. “Yes, well. We can’t win them all.”

“No,” Randa agreed. “But he was a good man, and a friend. It’s a hard loss.”

“Here,” Hannibal said, as he stepped up and handed David a bottle. “Something to help raise the spirits.”

David accepted it with a smile and turned it to scrutinize the label. “Tequila!” he announced, and his smile broadened. “I haven’t had Tequila in years. We can’t get it here.”

“I know,” Heyes stated. “That’s why I thought you would like some.”

“Oh yes,” David was adamant. “I think I’m going to open it right now. We can all have some.”

Heyes and Jed grinned.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Jed agreed.

“Yep,” his cousin seconded.

Miranda rolled her eyes, and as David opened a cupboard to find some glasses, she moved around the table to Tricia and handed her a bag.

“Here,” she said. “A little something I thought you might like. I absolutely fell in love with these things while I was down in Mexico.”

“Oh!” Tricia’s eyes lit up, and she smiled with anticipation. Digging into the bag, she pulled out a bundle of brightly coloured material that unraveled itself into a skirt. Tricia’s intake of breath could not be mistaken. “It’s beautiful!”

“There’s a cute little white blouse in there as well, and a pair of sandals,” Miranda informed her. “Come next summer, we can be scandalous and give all the old biddies heart attacks.” 

“You’re wicked,” Tricia accused her. “I can hardly wait.”

Another knocking sounded at the front door and the conversation was interrupted. 

“Come in!” David called, as he took down a forth glass from the cupboard.

“Hello,” Joe called from the alcove, and then he and Pansy entered the most important room in the house. “Wow. Something smells good in here.”

Tricia smiled. “Dinner will be about half an hour yet. Why don’t you gentlemen take your drinks into the living room, so us ladies can gossip.”

“Sounds like a plan,” David agreed. “Here, take a glass and let’s depart.”

“What’s this?” Joe asked.

“Tequila,” David informed him. “Hannibal brought back from Mexico.”

“Oh.” Joe picked up his glass and scrutinized the contents. “I don’t think I’ve ever had tequila.”

“First time for everything, Joe,” Jed told him. “Make sure you’re sittin’ down first.”

Joe cocked a brow at his friend, and the men departed the kitchen to settle in the back living room.

Not surprising to Hannibal, Nathan was sitting on the floor, totally mesmerized by the present that had been given to him. He sat, still as a cat, watching the four small brown beans that he had set out on the carpet. Suddenly, one of them began to tremble and then hopped two or three times and bumped into it’s neighbour. Nathan shrieked out his laughter and then watched again as a second bean completed the same task.

Joe frowned, not quite sure he had seen what had just happened.

“What in tarnation was that?” he asked no one in particular.

“They’re called Mexican Jumping Beans,” Heyes informed him. 

David and Joe both looked at Heyes, waiting for further explanation. Jed grinned. He already knew what these were all about. Trust Heyes to bring a bunch of ‘em home.

“Nathan,” Heyes continued. “Keep them in a box, with a wire mesh on top. Be patient and you’ll see something pretty amazing happen.”

David became suspicious. “Amazing how?”

“Well, what makes them jump,” Heyes explained, “is a larva inside. Eventually, it’ll make it’s way out of the bean and then metamorph itself into a moth.”

“Wow!” Nathan exclaimed, all excited. “Is it gonna do it now?”

“Not this instant,” Heyes told him. “It takes a couple of days.”

“Awww! I wanna see it now!”

David grinned. “Trust you to come up with something like this,” he accused Hannibal. “We’re not going to get over-run with moths, are we?”

“Only four,” Heyes assured him. “But keep the lid on, and the moths won’t escape into the house. You won’t do that, will you, Nathan? You won’t let the moths go in the house.”

Nathan grinned.

“Nathanial,” David cautioned his son. “Once they’re moths, you let them go outside, okay?”

Nathan slumped. “Yes, alright.” Then he brightened up. “Can I take them to school with me on Monday?”

“I suppose so,” David agreed. “I’ll make up a small box for them so you don’t lose them.”

Nathan grinned with anticipation and settled in to continue his study in observation.

“That’s amazing,” Joe commented. “I’ve never heard of those things.” He then, absent mindedly took a swig from the glass he was holding. Instantly, his eyes popped, and he coughed out a breath from his lungs. “Wow,” he choked. “What is this again?”

Jed took a sip, and grinned. “Tequila.”

“Okay.” Joe took another tentative sip and showed some appreciation. “It is nice, after you get over the shock.”

“It’s a very popular drink, south of the border,” Heyes informed him. “It’s distilled from a plant called a blue agave.”

“Geez, Heyes,” Jed complained. “Does everything have to be a history lesson with you? Why can’t ya’ just enjoy it?”

“I am enjoying it,” Heyes insisted.

“Hannibal has always had an inquisitive mind, Jed. You know that,” David reminded him. “Better that he uses it on positive things, rather than his pervious mischief. Don’t want him getting us all into trouble do you?”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jed announced.

“So will I!” Joe heartily agreed. “Especially now that I’m acting sheriff here.”

“To Hannibal, staying out of trouble!” David declared as he raised his glass.

Glasses clinked, and even Heyes smiled and went along with the teasing.

“Speaking of acting sheriff,” Heyes commented, once the toast was done. “You planning on staying on for the election?”

Joe sighed and thought about that for a moment.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I had intended on being back East by now, studying criminology. But it seems, things don’t always go has planned.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jed agreed. “But nothin’s sayin’ ya’ gotta stay here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joe concurred. “But Clyde Logan and Al Ruffus are talkin’ about running for the office, and I can’t imagine either one of them making a good sheriff.”

“Hmm,” Heyes frowned. “You got that right. They’d be the kind of sheriffs we used to love running into. Getting long in the tooth, and lazy in the attitude.”

Nods of agreement made the rounds.

“You’re gonna hav’ta make up your mind soon, Joe,” Jed told him. “You’ve been back and forth on this, for a while now. If yer gonna run fer sheriff, yer gonna hav’ta get started on it.”

Joe nodded. “I know. Besides that, Pansy wants to get married and start a family. She sure doesn’t want me to leave.”

“Oh yeah?” Heyes asked, as if this were new information. “Has she proposed, yet?”

David smiled, but Joe and Jed both sent him looks that suggested he should stop being an ass.

“No,” Joe answered, bluntly. “What I’m making as sheriff, I could save up and buy a ring for her, by Christmas. I could propose to her then. But, I’d pretty much be stuck here then, wouldn’t I?”

“Not necessarily,” David said. “You could always put in a term or two as sheriff, and then head East after that. Pansy could go with you, or stay here. Depending on your situation. People have done it before.”

“I know,” Joe agreed. “It’d just be a lot easier to go to college, if I stayed single.”

“Then go to college first, and send for Pansy when you’re done,” David suggested. “Or come back here, if you want to.”

“Yeah,” Joe contemplated. “But then what’s from stopping her from marrying someone else, while I’m gone? Bernie and Kurt are both hovering around, waiting for me to get out of their way.”

“Then, get engaged, so she has that promise,” Jed suggested. “Go back East to college, then come back and marry her, when yer done.”

“Yeah,” Joe considered. “I don’t think she’d want to wait though. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m afraid you’re the only one who can decide that, Joe,” David told him. “I think that if you stayed and ran for sheriff, you would get the position. People like you here, and you’ve proven your worth. But you have to do what your heart tells you, not what other people tell you. It’s not always easy.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Xxx

“Oh, that roast smells divine,” Miranda stated as Trish pulled it out to base. “You’re such a good cook.”

“That’s one of those abilities that comes with time,” Tricia informed her. “Cooking every day for a family, you learn how to do it. Speaking of which, I better get Eleanor up, or she won’t sleep tonight. I’ll be right back.”

“Anything we can do?” Pansy asked.

“You could finish setting the table,” Tricia suggested. “That would help.”

The two ladies set about the task, while drinking tea and chatting amiably. 

“You’re looking all aglow,” Pansy stated, enviously. “You must be so looking forward to starting your family.”

“We’ve already started our family,” Miranda pointed out. “This one is a continuation.”

“Oh, of course!” Pansy blushed at her mistake. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know.” Miranda smiled at the shy young woman. “This is the first time I have started one from scratch.”

Pansy appeared to blush even more, but she did smile and was relieved that she had not offended.

“I so want to have a family,” she stated. “but Joe doesn’t seem interested.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s not interested,” Randa countered. “He’s just young. He’s also had a lot handed to him, all of a sudden. He needs to find his footing, that’s all. Be patient and give him time.”

“But how much time?” Pansy exclaimed. “We’ve already been dating for over a year. If he was really interested, wouldn’t he have asked by now?”

“Not necessarily,” Randa stated. “I had to wait for Hannibal to make up his mind. But it was worth it, in the long run. Sometimes, I think that’s why it’s traditional for the man to propose marriage. Women often know quickly, when they’ve met the right person, so we’d be likely to move too fast, and end up scaring our intended away. If we are willing to wait until the man figures it out, and does the proposing himself, then we can feel confident that it’s what he really wants.”

“I suppose,” Pansy half-heartedly agreed. “I recall that Beth knew, very early on, and she had to wait a long time for Jed to realize it. Then they both waited until Hannibal was out of prison! Can you imagine?”

Miranda laughed. “Yes, that was quite an achievement. None of them knew how long that was going to take. But see how it all worked out? A little patience goes a long way.”

“But what if Joe decides to go back East?” Pansy asked. “He could be gone for three years. What would I do then?”

“Wait for him,” Miranda told her. “Just like Beth and Jed waited for Hannibal.”

Pansy allowed a heavy sigh to escape her lungs.

“Oh my!” Tricia stated, as she, with Eleanor in arms, returned to the kitchen. “Sounds like a serious discussion going on here.”

“Yes,” Randa concurred. “Pansy is concerned about Joe going back East to college.”

“Oh,” Tricia stated, as she settled her baby into the highchair. “Yes. Sometimes we women are put into the position of having to wait for our men.”

“But not you!” Miranda teased her cousin. “As I recall, you and David practically set the record for short engagements. Or did you just skip the engagement part and go directly to the alter?”

Tricia sent Miranda a look. 

“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Of course we got engaged first. David did everything properly. I took him home to meet my parents, and the next day, he asked my father for permission.” Tricia laughed. “I think my Pa was so surprised that I was actually bringing home a beau, and one that I was willing to marry, that he said yes out of pure relief. So there you go. We were engaged. For about a week.”

They all laughed, including Eleanor, who, of course, wanted to join in on the girl-talk.

Again, Pansy sighed wistfully. “Oh, I wish,” she bemoaned. “I fear I will be an old maid by the time Joe gets around to asking me.”

“Maybe you should start dating someone else,” Tricia suggested, with a wicked glint in her eye. “What about Kurt Ferguson? He’s a handsome young man, and he’s certainly interested in you.”

“Oh, I couldn’t!” Pansy declared, adamantly. “Joe is the man I want.”

“I know,” Tricia clarified. “But what better way to get a man’s attention, than to back off and start dating someone else? It might just be what Joe needs to make up his mind.”

“Oh,” Pansy responded, her eyes lighting up with comprehension. “I never thought of that. Oh, but I couldn’t. That’s so mean.”

The two older ladies exchanged glances and shrugged.

“Well,” Tricia commented. “I suppose, if you don’t mind waiting until you’re an old maid…”

Xxx

Dinner was soon ready, and everyone called to the table. Of course, it was a success. Roasted pork, with baked apples, mashed potatoes and a fresh salad made for a fine meal.

“David,” Miranda began the conversation. “Now that I think of it, an Apache woman down in Texas gave me some herbs for nausea. Hannibal is suspicious of it, so I agreed to let you check them out, before I used them. Would you mind?”

David sent Heyes a questioning look.

Heyes shrugged. “After all that misadventure with Amy, I didn’t want to take any chances.”

David nodded his understanding. “Oh yes. Of course. Certainly, I’ll check them out, Miranda. Drop them off with me tomorrow, and I’ll put them through their paces.”

“Thank you,” she beamed. “And if they don’t work out, do you have anything I could use instead?”

“Yes. I’ll get something put together for you tonight,” David offered. “Are you having problems?”

“Not lately, no,” Miranda admitted. “It was mostly the heat, down south, that did it. I might be fine from here on in. But just in case, it would be nice to having something on hand.”

“Good plan,” David agreed. “Why don’t you come in tomorrow for a check-up anyways. I’d like to see how you’re progressing.”

“You walked right in to that one,” Heyes teased her.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Randa countered. “It’s probably a very good idea.”

David smiled, feeling vindicated. “See, Hannibal? Not everyone scorns my efforts.”

“Just don’t expect to see me knocking on your office door.”

“No?” David asked. “How are you doing? Any more seizures?”

“No! I’m fine.”

“Good.”

“So,” Tricia intervened, before things got away from them. “You’ve kept me in suspense, long enough Miranda. What’s the news you were going to tell us about?”

“News?” David asked. “Don’t tell me—you’re expecting!”

“Oh David!” Miranda almost threw her napkin at him. “Don’t be silly. Actually, it’s more Jed and Hannibal’s news, than it is mine.”

“Oh yes?” David asked. “Was your assignment a success?”

“Oh yeah,” Jed agreed. “Better than we could’a hoped.”

“You were able to weed out the culprit?” Joe asked. “Was he actually in the game?”

“No,” Heyes admitted. “He wasn’t playing in the big game. It was actually Jed who found him.”

“Jed?” David asked, his brows rising.

“You’re kidding,” said Joe. “It was Jed who caught him?”

“Well, don’t all sound so surprised,” Jed griped. “I’m part ‘a this team too, ya’ know.”

“Oh, well, of course,” David assured him. “It’s just, I suppose, we all assumed that Hannibal would catch him in the game. That was what this was all about.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t go down that way,” Heyes explained. “I spent my time losing money for the first half of the game, because I was focusing too much on trying to single out our culprit. Then it turned out, he wasn’t even there. Apparently he got wind of an undercover agent being planted in the game to trap him, and he withdrew.”

“Oh no,” Joe commented. “So how did you finally catch him?”

“He and his partner were out playin’ blackjack,” Jed told them. “I noticed his partner actin’ kind’a funny, so I got Finney’s attention, and we both started playin’ ‘im. He was just a young fella, so I didn’t think he was who we were after, but he was up ta’ somethin’, so we kept on ‘im. Turns out he was the nephew of the man we were after. That man was in the game for a while, but then retired, and we kind’a forgot about ‘im. We managed to get the nephew ta’ slip up and make a run for it. He made a dash up the stairs of the hotel, and I lost ‘im. Then I heard gunfire on the floor beneath me, and ran down just in time to find the two of ‘em just about ta’ throw Finney over the bannister. They’re both coolin’ their heels now, in the Denver jail, awaitin’ extradition.”

“Wow,” Joe stated. “Good job, Jed. Maybe I should hire you as my deputy.”

Jed laughed. “Thanks Joe, but I got a job.”

Only Miranda and Tricia noticed Pansy’s eyes light up from Joe’s comment. Was he considering staying in town, and running for sheriff, after all?

“Well done, Jed,” David agreed, and raised his wine glass. “To Jed. First class, undercover agent.”

Everybody agreed, and toasted Jed, much to his pleasure and embarrassment. 

“Yeah, but that ain’t all of it,” he informed them. “Tell ‘em the rest of it, Heyes.”

Heyes smiled, and the depth of his dimples let everyone know how pleased he was with the upcoming news.

“Well,” he began. “After losing every hand during the first half of the game, and still not being able to find our man, I decided it was time to change my focus. I had to start playing to win, or I was going to be in debt to Scotland Yard, and I sure didn’t want that. I was confident that our man would show his true colours eventually, so I changed my tactics.”

“How did that work out for you?” David asked.

Heyes’ smile grew even deeper. 

“I won,” he announced.

“That’s hardly surprising,” David commented. “Once you put your mind to it, you usually do win. I can understand you being relieved though, not to be owing Scotland Yard any money. That would be inconvenient.”

“No, David. You’re not getting the whole picture,” Heyes informed him.

“Oh? What else?”

“David, I won the game,” Heyes explained. “The biggest game in the West. I walked out of that room with $130,000.”

Silence followed this announcement. Even Eleanor stopped her cooing and banging her spoon, and waited in anticipation of what was to come.

“What?” David finally asked.

“Oh my goodness!” Tricia stated. “You’re rich!”

“And they say crime doesn’t pay,” Joe commented, but smiling all the same.

“Yeah, but this wasn’t criminal,” Heyes pointed out. “I won it. Fair and square. Of course, I paid back Scotland Yard, and a third of what’s left is going to Jed. Another third is going into our business. The rest, well, we’ll see what comes.”

“Oh Jed, that’s wonderful,” Tricia congratulated him. “Does Beth know?”

“Not yet,” Jed admitted. “I wanna tell her in person. She’ll know tomorrow.”

“No wonder you were so excited,” Tricia stated. “This will definitely be a life-changer for all of you.”

“Yep,” Heyes agreed. “Life is good. I can’t wait to tell Kenny.”

Jed’s loud guffaw took over the room.

Xxx

The following morning, the Heyes household was up and about early, in anticipation of a busy day. Jed made coffee while Miranda went out to the cooler to retrieve the eggs and bacon she had purchased the previous day. A major shopping to replace the basics was due, and once they got home from picking up Sally and their string of horses, errands would be taken care of. 

In the mean time, there was enough food for a hearty breakfast, and even the cat put in an appearance.

“There you are,” Miranda stated as Mouse murred and wrapped herself around Miranda’s ankles. “Don’t worry, you’ll get some breakfast too. I hear you had plenty of company while we were away.”

“Ack!”

Hannibal came into the kitchen to pour himself a coffee. “Yeah,” he concurred. “She came in and told me all about it, last night, after you went to bed.”

“Really?” Miranda asked. “That’s why you were so late coming in. Midnight rendezvous with another woman.”

Heyes grinned, and came up to give his wife a kiss on the back of her neck. A raucous, verbal complaint from the area of their ankles made everybody laugh. Mouse was not impressed. Flicking her tail, she trotted from the kitchen in a huff. She would show them. She would plan her next entrance, just in time for the bacon to hit her dish, and no sooner. 

Jed laughed. “You’re a brave man, Heyes. Filling your house full ‘a females. It’ll be interestin’ ta’ see what the diva has to say about your extended absence.”

“Hmm,” Heyes raised his brows. “Yeah. Not sure what to expect there.”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Miranda stated. “How are we getting out there? All our horses are at the Double J.”

“Gov’s here,” Jed announced. “I rode him in and left ‘im at Eric’s place. We can hitch him up ta’ your buggy. I’ll just toss my saddle in the back.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Heyes agreed. “It’ll be nice to see everyone again.”

Xxx

As had become their routine of late, Pansy met up with Joe at the sheriff’s office, and the two of them went to have lunch together. But this time, sitting in their usual table in the corner, there was a noticeable strain between them. Both had something they wanted to say, but neither seemed able to get it out.

Finally, as shy as she was, Pansy, in her resolution, took courage and was the first to speak.

“Joe, there’s something I need to talk with you about.”

“Oh,” Joe perked up, relieved that a conversation was finally beginning. “Yeah, me too. But you go first.”

“Okay.” Pansy took a deep breath, and began. “I’ve been thinking. You’re under so much strain right now, with all that has been going on. I know that losing Sheriff Jacobs the way we did, has been hard on you, and now there’s a lot of pressure on you to stay as the new sheriff. I also know that you want to go back East, to study. So, I just think that, maybe we should back off things for a while. Give you a chance to sort out what you really want.”

“Oh.” Joe felt a tingle of fear go through him. “Well, I…”

“I’m not really sure anymore, either,” Pansy lied. “A break might be good for both of us. Max Robinson has asked me out, and…”

“Max Robinson!” Joe reclaimed. “But he’s my deputy!”

“Well, if you go back East to college, you won’t be the sheriff here, so he won’t be your deputy then.”

“Yeah, but I was thinking that I wasn’t going to go back East, yet,” Joe insisted. “Don’t you think I’ve noticed how them other fellas are looking at you, and secretly hoping that I’ll leave town? I’m not a fool, you know.”

“Really?”

“What!?”

“No! I mean; you’ve really noticed that?” Pansy clarified. “I thought all you were thinking about was your career.”

“Well, no. I ain’t blind,” Joe reminded her. “I mean, I can’t really afford to buy you a ring until Christmas, but I was thinking, if you were agreeable, that I would still go and ask your pa for permission. But if you’re not sure, now…”

Pansy felt a rise in panic threatening to take over her.

“Oh no!” she declared. “I’m sure! I didn’t think you were. Your head always seems to be somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I know,” Joe admitted. “You’re right about one thing; I’ve had a lot to deal with lately. I guess I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve. I apologize about that.”

“It’s alright,” Pansy assured him. “Everything has been so up in the air. I just didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

“Yeah, I appreciate that,” Joe told her. “But I think I’ve decided to stay on here for a while longer. If I’m voted in as sheriff, great. If not, then I can go East and start college. As long as you don’t mind, living that kind of life. Either way, it’s not easy. Look what happened to Sam’s mother. Damn, look what happened to Jacobs. This is suppose to be a quiet, civilized town, and yet…”

Pansy put her hand on Joe’s. “I know,” she said. “It can be a dangerous life. But I got through it, when you were off with Jed and Hannibal on that silly horse chase. That ended up being dangerous, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, it sure did,” Joe agreed.

“And I survived it,” Pansy pointed out. “I didn’t go run away and hide. I know what I’m getting into, and you’re worth it. Whether you stay here as sheriff, or we head East, I’ll be happy, as long as I’m with you.”

Joe smiled. “Then you’ll marry me?”

“Of course, I will.”

“Okay,” Joe said, his smile growing into a grin. “I’ll go talk to your pa, tomorrow.”

Pansy clapped her hands, and practically jumped up and down in her chair. “I’m so excited,” she exclaimed, needlessly. “When shall we do it?”

“Well,” Joe contemplated. “We get officially engaged at Christmas, then we can plan the wedding for spring. How’s that?”

“Wonderful!!”

Xxx

“Almost there!” Jed called back from the driver’s seat.

Hannibal and Miranda were sitting in the back, enjoying the view. Heyes rolled his eyes at Jed’s announcement.

“We’ve haven’t been gone for that long, you know,” he reminded his cousin. “Not five years, like the last time.”

“Yeah, I know. But it’s fun ta’ announce it,” Jed commented. “Oh, look who’s galloping out to meet us!”

The couple in the back leaned around in order to see ahead of the driver, and saw the familiar sight of their daughter, riding Fannie full speed ahead, towards them.

“Mama! Papa! You’re back!”

The parents grinned at the sight of their energetic daughter. Her dark red hair was tied behind in a pony tail, but that didn’t prevent strands of it from flying around her eyes, nor did it do much to hide the dirt smudges covering her joyful face. Dressed in one of J.J.’s old shirts, and a pair of dungarees rolled up to display bare calves and dirty feet, she reminded Heyes of the first time he had met Bridget and Beth. Tomboys to the core.

Miranda loved that her daughter wasn’t letting herself be pigeon-holed into early expectations of girlhood. She was given the freedom to explore her own idea of who she was, and enjoying every minute of it.

“Hi Sweetheart!”

“Hello Darlin’,” Heyes greeted her. “Who’s that with you?”

Sally pulled Fannie to a halt and swung her around so that she was now headed in the same direction as the buggy. The blue dog that had joined in on the greeting festivities, trotted around the horse and then the buggy, a big smile on his face, and the occasional excited bark escaping from his tongue-filled mouth.

“That’s Blu,” Sally announced. “He’s my dog.”

“Yeah, Heyes,” Jed concurred. “Remember I told ya’, ya’ had a dog.”

“Oh yeah,” Heyes did recall that.

He and Miranda exchanged concerned looks. How were they going to manage a bundle full of energy, like that blue tick hound, in their small home? How were they going to introduce him to Mouse? Then his attention was diverted by the herd of horses who were grazing in the main pasture beside the roadway.

A few heads came up as the new arrivals entered the yard, and Daisy, who had bonded with Gov as her main pasture mate, sent out a welcoming nicker. Karma was too busy grazing underneath the willow tree to bother with any sort of acknowledgement.

Miranda smiled. “It seems that Karma wasn’t too worried about your absence, after all.”

“I don’t know,” Heyes commented, sounding dubious. “I think she’s giving me the cold shoulder. I don’t think I’ll ride her back to town, after all. We can tie her to the back of the buggy and give her time to get over her snit.”

“You coward.”

“Hey, I’m not getting any younger,” Heyes pointed out. “And I want to get back home, in one piece.”

Jed brought the buggy to a halt by the first barn, and Sam was there to take Gov’s head.

“Hi!” he greeted the couple. “Welcome back.”

“Hey Sam,” Heyes returned the greeting as he stepped out of the buggy and offered a hand to his wife. “I hear there was some excitement around here, while we were gone.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Sam agreed. “You picked the perfect time to be away.”

“Hello, Sam,” Miranda greeted him. “How is everyone doing?”

“They’re fine, on the most part,” Sam informed her. “My ma is still kind of down, over what happened. But she’ll be alright.”

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Miranda told him. “Your mother’s been through enough already, she didn’t need this as well.”

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, I know. I tell ya’, the Bairds sure ain’t welcome in this town, after all that. Isabelle’s probably better off livin’ in Denver, at least for a while.”

“I don’t think she’ll be coming back to live here,” Heyes surmised. “Part of her objective in getting married, was to get out of Brookswood.”

“True enough. I sure don’t envy Briscoe any, though.”

Heyes smirked.

“Joshua! Miranda! Hello!”

“Belle!” Miranda returned the greeting, as she hurried towards the front porch. “Good morning!”

Hannibal’s smirk turned into a grin, as he followed his wife over to their friend. “Hello, Belle. How are you making out?”

“Ohh!” Belle rolled her eyes. “What a time we’ve had. But we’re still here. Come on inside. There’s coffee on, or tea, and we’ll get lunch going here soon.”

“Oh goodie!” Sally exclaimed as she jumped up and down, beside her father. “Can we have apple pie?”

“My goodness, child,” Belle teased her. “Haven’t you had enough apple pie? Next thing you know, you’re going to be growing branches, and we’ll be plucking the apples off of you.”

Sally giggled, and hugged her dog, who never seemed to be far from the child. “Can Blu have some too?”

“No,” Belle declined. “Now come inside, and get cleaned up.”

“Hold it!” Jed called from the barn. “Why is there a horse standing loose in the middle of the yard?”

“Oh.” Sally looked sheepish, and almost began running her big toe through the dirt, but she stopped herself just in time. “Sorry, Uncle Jed.”

“Tend to your horse,” Jed told her, for the umpteenth time. “You might as well put her in the pasture with everyone else. I doubt you’ll be headin’ home right away.”

“Well, off you go,” Heyes told her. “Do what your uncle tells you.”

“Yes, Papa.”

The child ran off to collect her mare, who was still standing patiently in the same spot where Sally had left her. Giving Fannie a pat on the nose, Sally picked up the reins and trotted the old mare over to the pasture gate. Fannie then lowered her head, so Sally could easily pull the bridle over her ears, and then again, waited patiently for her young mistress to unlatch the gate and push it open. 

“Come on, Fanny. In you go.”

Fanny snorted and then casually sauntered through the gate and over to the other horses. 

Heyes smiled at his daughter’s antics, and the gentleness of his old mare.

“Nobody’s told her yet, that you’re suppose put the horse in the pasture, before you take off the bridle,” he observed. “Fanny sure is being good with her.”

“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “You were right. Fanny really does look out for her.”

“I’ll say,” Belle stated. “Did Jed tell you about how that mare got Sally out of a very dangerous situation, out at the Baird’s ranch?”

“Yes,” Heyes said, with a frown. 

“What a fright, that gave us,” Belle continued. “There is nothing like an inquisitive child, to keep you on your toes.”

“I hope you let her know how much she worried you,” Miranda said. “She needs to understand that.”

“She understands,” Belle assured them. “She got a good lecture from Jed, from me, from Jesse, and then again at school the next day. I think she’ll think twice before doing something like that, again.”

“Good,” Heyes said. “It’s also a good thing, that those responsible are locked up, or worse. I would have done my best, to make their lives miserable.”

“Then it is a good thing, that it’s all been taken care of,” Belle said. “You didn’t need to come home to that. Come on inside. Jesse is looking forward to seeing you again. I’m afraid, he’s bored to tears these days.”

Coming into the home, they found Jesse in his usual place at the dinning room table. Papers were spread out and he and Beth were going over the numbers for the ranch. Both smiled a greeting as the visitors entered, and Beth stepped lively to come over and give them welcoming hugs.

“Welcome home,” she said. “You both look like you had a great time. And Miranda! Look at you. I’m sure I have some dresses that will fit you, as long as I get them back. I don’t think I’m finished with them yet. Although, the one you have on now is lovely. Where did you get it?”

“I got this at one of the shops in Denver,” Randa informed her. “It is nice, isn’t it? And it even has an expanding waist so I can wear it all the way through.”

“An expanding waist?” Beth’s eyes lit up with surprise. “What will they think of next? I’ll have to get me one of those!”

“Well, when you’re in need again, you can have this one,” Randa offered. “These clothes do tend to make the rounds, don’t they?”

“That’s for sure,” Belle agreed. “Both of my daughters used my confinement dresses for everyday wear. They never go out of fashion. They simply wear out!”

The three ladies laughed, and headed towards the kitchen to continue with their visit.

Heyes sighed with relief, and then came around to Jesse, and shook his hand. Once again, Heyes noticed how much older his friend was looking. But perhaps it was just the after affects of suffering such extensive injuries. But there was no denying the weight loss and the minor sunken appearance under his eyes, and in his cheeks. This summer had been hard on the patriarch. 

“Hi Jesse,” Heyes greeted his mentor. “How are you doing?”

“Slowly getting better,” Jesse told him. “It’s still going to be a long road though. Even David doesn’t think that I’ll be riding much, anymore. Dammit.”

“Yeah.” Heyes pulled out the chair that Beth had vacated, and sat down. He smiled, wistfully. “This kind of reminds me of when we first met. You were in a wheelchair then, too.”

“Ha!” Jesse laughed. “That injury was nothing compared to this one. No, I did it up right, this time.”

“From what I hear, you’re lucky to be alive,” Heyes commented. “That must have been some fire. We saw some of the damage, coming in on the train.”

“Yes,” Jesse agreed. “And that’s just the tip of it. We’ve lost acres upon acres of timber, not to mention livestock, and people too, unfortunately. We still don’t know what happened to Ben, but whatever it was, he’s damn lucky to be alive, as well. That young man is still in the hospital, and will carry scars for the rest of his life.”

“Yeah,” Heyes agreed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help, Jesse. If I had been free to do so, I would have come back, but by the time that sheriff in Yuma released me, the fire was done. Both David and Jed said that there was no need for us to return. But still—I feel that I should have.”

“No, no,” Jesse used his good hand to wave the sentiment away. “They were right; there was no need for you to come back. You two had waited long enough for your honeymoon and you deserved it. We had plenty of help.” He smiled, mischievously. “And your house came in very handy. I hope it is none the worse for wear.”

“It’s fine,” Heyes assured him. “It didn’t look as if anyone had been using it, while we were away.”

“Oh, it got used,” Jesse insisted. “Every spare space in Brookswood got used. It was like a war zone.”

“Well, at least we contributed that much.”

“How are you doing?” Jesse asked him. “You went through quite an ordeal in Yuma. Any more problems with that?”

“Not yet,” Heyes assured him. “I’m hoping that the sheriff down there will keep things civilized. He was a life-saver. Funny, now that I’m a free man, I’m running into more and more decent lawmen. Where were they when we were being hunted?”

Jesse smiled. “I’m sure they were out there, Hannibal. You can’t expect to be treated with kindness and respect when you’re living your life as an outlaw. Besides that, I’m sure you had a rather prejudice view on the matter, back then.”

“Ha! Yes, I suppose you have a point.”

“I’m glad that the sheriff down there was helpful to you,” Jesse continued. “What about the other issue. Any more seizures?”

“No. I’m good, Jesse. David and I discussed what he thinks triggers them. If I can avoid those types of situations, then I doubt I will ever have another seizure.”

“Really?” Jesse asked, showing interest. “What are they?”

Heyes shrugged. “Well, stress for one,” he said. “And apparently I have a problem with forced confinement, especially in small, dark places.”

“Really,” Jesse stated, with just a hint of sarcasm. “I can’t imagine how you developed that phobia.”

“Yeah,” Heyes snarked. “Can’t imagine. So, if I can avoid those types of situations, I should be able to control the seizures. No more problem.”

“Good,” Jesse agreed. “Sounds like a positive attitude, on more than one level.”

“I’m trying.”

Conversation was interrupted by the front door opening again, and Sally ran through, quickly followed by Jed and Sam. Sally kept on going towards the kitchen in anticipation of apple pie, but Jed and Sam joined the others at the table.

“How’s the paperwork coming?” Jed asked. “You able to make sense of it?”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Thank goodness for Beth. I don’t know where she comes by it, but she does know how to keep this ranch running in the black. It’s going to be tight this winter, but we’ll have enough to get through till spring. Don’t you dare ever leave here, Jed. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“That ain’t likely ta’ happen, Jesse,” Jed assured him. “I like it just fine, right here.”

“Oh, I donno,” Heyes put in. “Apparently Uncle Mac is looking for a private investigator to be on his payroll, full-time. I recommended you.”

“Ha! If I didn’t know you were jokin’, Heyes, I’d brain ya’!”

“What?” Heyes asked innocently. “A good steady pay cheque, a reasonable boss…”

“Yeah. Ya’ got me, right there. No thanks.”

“That’s what I said, too.”

“Speaking of undercover work,” Jesse inquired. “How did your game go? Did you break the house?”

Heyes and Jed exchanged smug glances.

“Ah,” Jed began. “We’ll tell ya’ about that, over lunch.”

“Oh?” Jesse perked up and was suddenly, very interested.

Any further enquiries were terminated by the timely return of the ladies, each carrying trays laden with goodies.

“Jesse, clear off the table, so we can have lunch,” Belle insisted. “You can get back to your paperwork later.”

“Let me do it!” Beth instantly stepped up. “I want to keep those papers in a certain order, so we’ll know where we were when we start up again.”

True to her word, she set the platter of sandwiches down on a clear spot on the table, and quickly began stacking the sheets of paper in her own special order. As she cleared space, Belle set down the tray of cups and plates, and Miranda did the same with the tea and coffee pots, and condiments. 

That done, everyone pulled out chairs and settled in for lunch.

“Where’s J.J.?” Heyes asked. “Doesn’t he usually put in an appearance for meals?”

Belle and Jesse exchanged humorous glances.

“Not for lunch,” Belle answered. “Breakfast and supper seems to be the only times we see that boy. During the week, he’s in school, and on the weekends, he’s off doing something, somewhere. I think Todd is with him today.”

“Yeah, he is,” Sam concurred. “They both disappeared right after the morning chores were done.”

“That’ll be changing soon,” Jesse commented. “That boy is getting old enough to be helping out around here a lot more than he is. Especially this year. I won’t be able to hire as many extra hands as I usually do, so we’re all going to have to step it up.” He frowned when he remembered his own situation. “What a time for me to invalided.”

“Don’t worry, Papa,” Beth assured him. “We’ll manage.”

Again, the silent communication between the cousins took place. Jesse and Belle cocked brows at one another, wondering what was coming up next.

“Ah, I might be able ta’ help out a bit with that, Jesse,” Jed offered.

“Since you do have a share in this ranch, I expect you to help out,” Jesse informed him.

“Yeah, I know,” Jed agreed. “But, I’m meanin’…well, that job in Denver was more successful than any of us were figurin’ on.”

“I take it, you caught the culprit?” Belle inquired. “Was he in the game?”

“No,” Jed explained. “I mean, yeah, we caught him, but he weren’t in the game. He was out playin’ blackjack with me and the fella from Scotland Yard.”

“You caught him?” Beth asked, her eyes alight with pride. “That’s wonderful. And what a boost for your new company.”

“That’s great, Jed,” Jesse congratulated him. “But how does that help us?”

“Well…”

“It just so happens, that I did break the house,” Heyes took over. “I won the game, Jesse. Walked out of it with $130,000.”

Heyes never got tired of the reaction that this news always created in his audience. Cups and sandwiches stopped in mid-journey as all eyes focused on Heyes.

Then Sam whistled. “You won $130,000 playing poker?”

Heyes grinned, glowing with pride. “Yep.”

“Oh my goodness,” Jesse exclaimed. “Right now, you’re richer than this ranch.”

“Yeah, but this ranch is part of it, Jesse,” Jed reminded him. “Just like the Medgar’s place is part ‘a it. We’re taking Beth’s advice on how to pay ourselves and the company with whatever profit we get in. So Heyes and I are each getting a third, and the company is getting a third. So that means, the company is in a position right now, ta’ help ya’ out this year, if’n ya’ need it.”

“Let me take a look at the books, first,” Beth insisted, before anyone else could step in. “We certainly won’t take any money from the company, if we don’t need to. But it is lovely to have a back-up plan. This is wonderful news.”

“You won $130,000 playing poker?” Sam asked again.

“Yeah.”

“Damn!”

Everyone broke up laughing. Then Jed, who had been a bit disappointed in his wife’s reaction to the news, thought that he should clarify something.

“I’m thinkin’ that you ain’t getting’ the whole picture, Darlin’,” he said to her.

Beth turned questioning eyes towards him. “You and Hannibal won enough money for the company that you can back the ranch up, if needs be. I’d say that’s wonderful news.”

“Yeah, but Darlin’, I also got a third ‘a that money,” Jed pointed out. “Just like Heyes did, and like the company did. I ain’t dirt poor no more, Beth.”

Beth had been so relieved about saving the ranch, that it took a moment for this additional information to sink in. Everyone saw it happen when it did, though. Her jaw dropped and her eyes lit up even more than they already were.

“Oh, Sweetheart!” Belle exclaimed. “What a wonderful surprise!”

“Oh, you mean...?” Beth stammered. “Oh my…we actually…Oh Jed!” 

Jumping up from her chair, she embraced her husband in a smothering hug around his neck, and planted kisses upon his curly head. The sound of his laughter could be heard from somewhere within this encompassing embrace.

Then, much to Heyes’ surprise, Beth ran over and have him the same treatment.

“Oh, Hannibal! Thank you. I can’t believe it! What news!”

“You’re welcome,” Heyes responded, through his laughter. “But your husband is just as responsible as me. We’re a team, remember.”

“Oh yes, I know! But, oh my. Miranda! You must have been thrilled!”

Beth’s exuberance was contagious and Miranda was laughing along with everyone else.

“Yes,” she agreed. “I was a wonderful close to our honeymoon.”

“What’s everybody so excited about?” Sally asked. “I thought we were always rich.”

“You’re right, Sweetheart,” Miranda told her. “But this is good news for our whole family, not just for us. It’s going to make things a little easier, that’s all.”

“Oh, yes,” Beth agreed, as she began to calm down and returned to her chair. “I’ll have to really do my homework now. Hannibal, once you get settled, get me all the numbers. Exactly how much each third works out to, what all the expenses are, that kind of thing. It’s so easy to go through money, if you don’t keep track of where you’re spending it. But yes, if we’re all careful with it, this is going to bring about a lot of changes for us.”

T.J. let out a loud, indignant wail from the bedroom under the stairs. Apparently he had heard all the commotion and decided that in bed was not the place he wanted to be.

“Ah oh,” Jed commented. “It sounds like Thaddeus wants to join us. I’ll go get him.”

“Thank you,” Beth said as Jed departed. Then she sighed and took a sip of tea to calm herself. “Oh my. I’m all aflutter. This is going to take some getting used to.”

“Don’t worry,” Heyes assured her. “It won’t take long. When I think of how many times Jed and I have gone from rags to riches, and then down to rags again, it scares me. I like to think that we’ve both grown up a bit, from those days, and, with Beth’s help, we’ll manage this windfall a whole lot better than we have done in the past.”

“Your priorities are different now,” Jesse pointed out. “You both have families and a business to maintain. I can’t see either one of you being irresponsible with it now. Money that comes easy isn’t valued. You and Jed have both worked hard to get to where you are, and now, it’s paying off. Good job.”

Heyes smiled. Praise from Jesse meant more to him than all their ill-gotten gains from the past.

“Thank you, Jesse. We won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t. Now, Sam!”

Sam woke up from his fantasies. “Yessir.”

“Between you and Deke, you two have pretty much taken over the running of this ranch,” Jesse pointed out. “Considering our changed circumstances, I think it’s time that both of you got a raise in pay.”

Sam lit up. “Oh! Yessir, thank you.”

“You’ve both earned it. It’s not going to happen right away. We have to let Mrs. Curry here, get her hands on the books and let us know exactly where we stand. But I don’t doubt that it’s going to be a sight better than where it was yesterday.”

“Yes, Papa,” Beth agreed. “It will be.”

“And now,” Jesse continued. “Hannibal, why don’t you reach up to that top cupboard and bring down the bottle of brandy. I think a toast is warranted, after all this.”

“Yessir,” Heyes agreed, as he stood up to do as bidden. “And I even brought out a bottle of tequila for you, for later.”

“Tequila!” Jesse exclaimed. “Oh ho! I haven’t had tequila in years. You’re a good man.” 

Jed returned to the table, with T.J. in his arms. The baby was still struggling to wake up, but he was determined to be a part of what ever the celebration was all about. He cooed and laughed excitedly, as Jed bounced him gently on his knee. Grabbing a spoon off the table, he began to rap it against the wood and shriek with pleasure at his contribution.

Beth got out glasses, and as Hannibal filled them, she handed them out to all the adults at the table. Sally looked disappointed.

“Can I have one, too?” she asked.

Hannibal’s first reaction was to say no, but before he did, he found himself second-guessing it. Well, why not? Her curiosity is only going to get bigger, so might as well nip it in the bud right now.

“Okay,” he said. “Beth, will you get Sally a glass?”

Both Miranda and Beth gave him a look, but Belle and Jesse smiled at the new father’s wisdom. Jed and Sam sat back to watch the experiment unfold.

Surprise was Sally’s main reaction. She had completely expected to be refused. She looked with wonder and delight, at the glass with a small amount of brandy in it, as it was placed on the table in front of her.

“Well, here we are, again,” said Jesse, once everyone was seated with a brandy. “This seems to be a regular thing in this family now, to be congratulating you two young men, on a job well done. You’re part of this family, and I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’ve come a long, long way, but you’ve proved yourselves, over and over again, in your commitment to making your new lives successful. To Beth and Jed. To Miranda and Hannibal. May you continue to be happy in your marriages, and prosperous in your lives. Cheers.”

“I agree,” Belle put in. “We couldn’t be more proud. What a wonderful family this has grown into.”

“Thank you, Jesse, and Belle,” Heyes said. “And I couldn’t agree with you more.”

“Yeah,” Jed concurred. “We couldn’t ‘a landed in a better place.”

Glasses were tapped all around, even if it meant standing up and leaning over the table to reach Jesse’s. Then Jed and Hannibal locked eyes and made their own silent toast to one another. No words needed to be said on that one.

Everyone took a drink and sat down, again.

“Mmm,” Heyes commented. “Very nice.”

“It’s the good stuff,” Jesse agreed. “Saved for these special occasions.”

Admiration for the brandy was interrupted by a strangled gasp coming from the youngest partaker. All eyes went to Sally, who was looking anything but appreciate. Her face was a picture of pure shock and disappointment, as her eyes watered, and her nose began to run. Another rasping cough erupted from her lungs and her face went from red to puce, as she fought for every breath.

“Oh dear,” Belle stated. “I should have had a glass of water ready for that. Come along with me, Sally. Let’s go get you a drink.”

Sally latched on to her grandma’s hand and the two of them hurried off to the kitchen. The men at the table smiled appreciatively at the reaction, while Miranda shook her head and stood up.

“Oh, you men,” she stated, in mock disgust, and followed her daughter into the kitchen to give support.

“That’ll cure that for a while,” Heyes stated triumphantly. “I doubt she will show much interest in anything alcoholic for at least another ten years.”

Jed smirked, trying hard not to break out into a laughing fit. Sam looked thoughtful. 

Xxx

Time to head back to town eventually came upon them. Percy and Fanny appeared eager to head for home, and came to stand by the gate as soon as preparations were in the making. Karma, on the other hand, continued to be aloft. Try as Hannibal might, the mare wouldn’t even look at him, let alone come to the gate to be haltered.

Percy was all harnessed up, and Sally’s belongings loaded into the buggy, while Hannibal was still out in the pasture, trying to entice his mare. Even the bucket of oats wasn’t getting her attention. Heyes knew she was really in a snit, when she allowed Daisy, Buck and Gov to come over and help themselves to the oats that should have been hers.

Finally, Heyes slumped and gave it up. 

“Fine!” he said. “Be like that. You can just stay here and be a brood mare. I’ll go buy myself another horse, and I’ll make sure it’s a GELDING this time!”

A dark chestnut ear flicked his way, but the eye refused to come around.

Heyes shook his head, then turned to stomp back towards the gate. Jed, who was leaning up against the fence to watch the contest, smiled as his cousin approached. Heyes snarled.

“What!!”

“Nothin’,” Kid lied. “I’m sure Eric would have a real nice geldin’ for ya’.”

“Goddam, bloody mare…” Heyes griped as he opened the gate and then slammed it closed behind him. He tossed the now empty grain bucket at his cousin. “Here! Do something useful and take that back to the barn.”

Jed’s grin broadened. “Uh huh.”

Then Heyes came up short, as he recognized another problem in the works. Sally was sitting up on Fannie, waiting with everyone else to head for home. Sitting on the ground beside her, was that blue tick dog. His mouth was open, and his tongue lolling out in a happy smile in anticipation of heading back to town with his family.

“Aw, Sally,” the father began. “Don’t you think that dog would be happier living out here, with all this room to run around on?”

Sally’s expression dropped, and her lip trembled in anticipation of tears to come.

“No!” she insisted. “He’s fine at our place.”

“What about Mouse?” Heyes asked. “I don’t think she would…”

“They get along great!” Sally countered. “They even play together. Please Papa! He wouldn’t be happy out here, I know he wouldn’t!”

“But Darlin’, he’s a ranch dog, not a town dog,” Heyes tried to be reasonable. “And your grandparents really need a new ranch dog. It would be perfect for him.”

Now the tears began in ernest, and even Blu was beginning to look concerned.

“No! He wouldn’t be happy out here.”

“Ah, Heyes,” Jed intervened. “We already tried that. It didn’t work. When Sally and J.J. started going to school again, we put the dog in the barn, thinkin’ that once she was out of sight, he would settle. Nope. As soon as we let ’im outa the barn, he took off for town. Somehow, he knew she was at the schoolhouse, cause that’s where he spent the whole day, waitin’ for her.”

“Well, maybe if we…”

“Nope,” Jed said. “Tried that too. He howled and barked the whole time, until he found a way out’a the barn, and again, headed for town.”

“Then we can…”

“Nope, he chewed through the rope.”

“Then tie him up with a…”

“Nope. He’d have ta’ stayed tied up all the time. Then what good would he be as a ranch dog?”

“Oh.” Heavy sigh.

“That dog’s miserable without her,” Jed continued. “He follows ‘em in to town every day, waits on the schoolhouse porch, and then comes back out with her in the afternoon. I told ya’, ya’ had a dog, Heyes. You ain’t gonna get rid ‘a ‘im.”

Heyes looked at the dog, who was looking at him with ears up and a hopeful expression in his eyes. The human sighed. He looked back at his mare to find that the liver rump was still pointed in his direction. Shaking his head, he threw up his arms in defeat.

“Alright! Fine. Let’s go home.”

Blu jumped up and danced for joy. He made one galloping loop around Fanny’s legs, then made a bee line for Heyes, and smiled up his thanks and gratitude. 

Heyes gave him a pat on the head and then was forever smitten. He did, after all, always like dogs.

Heyes stepped up onto the seat, beside his wife and nodded to Jed. “See ya’ later, Cousin.”

“Yep,” Jed answered. “I’ll be back in town in a couple ‘a days. See how things are goin’.”

Heyes nodded. He glanced at the front porch, and seeing Belle and Beth, and Jesse on his crutches, all waving goodbye, he waved back, and then clucked Percy into motion. He didn’t give Karma a second glance. Two could play at this game.

Sally wiped away her tears and smiled a thank you to her uncle. She then gave Fanny a nudging, even though the mare was already following the buggy, and the family, with the dog bringing up the rear, headed for home.

Jed nodded farewell and then headed back to the barn. He’d hardly gone two steps however, when he heard a shrill whinny coming from the pasture. He turned to see Karma looking somewhat agitated. 

The mare’s head was up, and her ears were pricked in the direction of the disappearing buggy. That wasn’t suppose to happen! What did her human think he was doing, leaving her here again? No, no, no. With an irritated snort and a toss of her red mane, she dug in her heels and galloped head long, towards the fence.

Jed wasn’t sure if she was going to put on the brakes, or go through it. But she did neither. Gathering her hind quarters up, underneath her, she dug in deep, and in flying colours, pushed her bulk up and over the fence. Landing on the ground on the other side, she gave a squeal, and a buck in triumph and then took off at a full gallop towards town.

Jed smirked as he headed back towards the barn. Yep, Heyes and that mare deserved one another.

Xxx

As soon as Harry and Isabelle returned to Denver from their honeymoon, the first friends they visited were Steven and Bridget. This was not done out of any feelings of affection or loyalty, but born out of a need for answers.

To say that Isabelle was livid, upon hearing the fate of her family, is an understatement. Sheriff Jacobs had been one of the few people in town who had made any effort at all, to support her. He had shown her understanding and compassion for her situation when many others simply turned their backs upon her. The fact that most weren’t even aware of the abuses that she had undergone throughout most of her life, did not appease her resentment and bitterness towards the town folks.

But Sheriff Jacobs had been different. To learn that he had not only been killed in the line of duty, but that it had been a member of her own family that had done the deed, was more than she could tolerate. When Steven had told her of the fate of her father and eldest brother, she hadn’t even tried to hide the small smile that pulled at her lips. To her, this was Sheriff Jacobs parting gift; to free her from the family ties that had only brought pain and misery into her life.

“Are you going to defend Seth and Courtney?” she asked Steven, as they sat in the parlour, drinking tea.

“No,” he admitted. “I’m not permitted to.”

“Why not?” she asked him. “You’re the best lawyer in town.”

“I’m too close to the case,” he explained. “And there are other fine lawyers in town. In fact, the courts have already assigned one for Seth, and I’m sure there will be others assigned for Courtney and for Mr. Shuster.”

Isabelle snorted. “I couldn’t give two hoots about Courtney or ‘Luke the Lowlife’! But Seth. I’m sure he was simply following along with Pa and Emmitt. They’re bullies, both of them! But that’s not Seth. I’ll sell the ranch and get Seth a good lawyer, but Courtney and Luke Shuster can fend for themselves.”

“Oh now, Peaches,” Harry soothed her. “I know you and your sister don’t see eye to eye, but that doesn’t mean you can turn your back on her now. She is family.”

Isabelle snorted. “Family! That cow was never there for me; always running off to our aunt when things at home got too rough. I don’t owe her anything.”

“The courts might see that differently,” Steven informed her. “If you sell the ranch, then you are obligated to pay for the lawyers defending your siblings. If you refuse to the sell the ranch until after the trials, then the courts have the right to seize it, in order to cover the fees. One way or another, if the family has the money to pay for their defences, then you are obligated to pay it.”

“That’s not fair!” Isabelle declared, and would have stamped her foot, if she had been standing. “Courtney never put anything into that ranch. I don’t care what crimes she has been charged with, she deserves to go to prison for the way she’s treated me all my life! I’m hardly going to waste my money on her defense.”

“But it’s not your money,” Steven pointed out, patiently. “The ranch belongs to the family. You are each entitled to a share of it. Now, in circumstances like this, the court will lay first claim on it. Then, anything that is left over will be split up between the three surviving members. They, of course, being you, Courtney and Seth.”

Isabelle huffed in frustration. “Harry, isn’t there anything you can do about this? You know the law. There must be something you can do.”

Harry looked panicked at this odd request. He and Steven exchanged glances, then Harry gathered himself and came to his own rescue.

“Well, certainly, I understand the law, Sweetness,” he concurred. “But I’m afraid my hands are tied in this matter. As fine an agent as I am, I still can’t over-ride a court ruling. The judge always has the final say.”

Isabelle huffed again. “Fine!” she finally rescinded. “The ranch will be put up for sale, along with all the livestock. I doubt we’ll get much for it, the place is a shambles. Once the court and lawyer fees are covered, I probably won’t get anything. Still, it might be worth it to get away from that place, and that town, and those people! Thank goodness we have a lovely townhouse right here.”

“Yes,” Bridget tried to smile about that. “You are well situated. We can go shopping together, and get together for tea.”

Isabelle looked at Bridget through a blank expression. The two of them associating on any regular basis was the last thing she had any intentions of doing.

Though feeling insulted at the slight, Bridget also had to acknowledge a sense of relief wash over her. Obviously, this was one bridge that she would not have to cross over, too often.

Then, much to Bridget’s relief, Sylvie put in an appearance and smiled brightly at her mistress.

“Shall I bring in more hot water, for the tea?” she asked.

“Oh.” Bridget tried to cover her hesitation. “Yes, that would be…”

“No, no,” Isabelle cut in. “I have the answers I need. The next step is to get that ranch up for sale.” Then she slumped with disappointment when another thought hit her. “I suppose I should go and visit Seth and Courtney over at the jailhouse. How long before their trials get under way?”

“It depends on how long it takes to get everything organized,” Steven told her. “The court has already assigned a fine lawyer to prosecute, by the name of Mr. Bailey. A Mr. Maxwell as been assigned to Seth’s case and will likely be assigned to Courtney and Shuster’s cases as well. I admit though, money to help grease the wheels will get things moving along, faster.”

“Fine,” Isabelle stated. “Perhaps I can get a loan at the bank, using the ranch as collateral, until it sells. The sooner we get this nonsense over with, the better. But…I’m not paying for Luke Shuster’s lawyer. It’s bad enough having to waste money on family, let alone help that shyster. He can sink or swim on his own.”

“Understandable,” Steven agreed. “You are under no obligation to cover the expense for a non-family member. The sooner you can get the loan application started, the better. You still have time this afternoon to get that arranged.”

“Then we’d best get to it,” Isabelle announced, as she stood up. “Come along, Harry. I suppose I’ll need you to sign the paper work.”

“Coming, my peach,” Harry responded.

Everyone came to their feet and the small group headed towards the front door.

Once there, Harry turned and shook Steven’s hand.

“Fine advice,” he praised the lawyer. “It’s good to have a lawyer in your back pocket, I always say.”

Steven cocked a brow, but chose to ignore the backward compliment. Harry meant well, he couldn’t help it, if he was socially inept. 

“Of course,” Steven responded. “Always happy to help out.”

“Fine, fine. Well, come along, Peaches. Still lots to do.”

The front door closed upon the departing guests, and the resident couple breathed a sigh of relief. 

“What a pair!” Bridget announced. “This is one case I’m glad you’re not taking on.”

“Likewise, my dear,” Steven concurred. “I earned my rights by walking through fire, now it’s young Mr. Bailey’s turn. He’ll be a much better lawyer, once he gets through these three cases.”

Bridget laughed. “That’s cruel!” She accused her husband. “You’re not going to leave him to deal with that family, all on his own, are you?”

“No, I suppose not,” Steven relented. “Nobody deserves that.”

Xxx

October came in like a lion. The leaves were still sporting their fall colours when the first snowfall came down and covered their brilliance. Everyone buckled down and prepared for winter. The Baird ranch lay quiet and empty. No one in the area was interested in purchasing the run-down and ill-fated property. Too many ghosts, they said. Too much blood in the ground.

Fortunately for Seth, his trial was short-lived, and cut and dry. Evidence showed, beyond a doubt, that it was Emmitt’s gun that had fired the shot that had killed Sheriff Jacobs. Seth was still found guilty of conspiracy in the murder, and was sentenced to five years in the Colorado prison. Steven figured that he would get out in three. Where his life took him after that, was anyone’s guess.

The trials of Courtney Baird and Luke Shuster, charged with aiding and abiding, and attempted kidnapping, not to mention, the additional attempted murder charge against Shuster, were a little more involved. Despite the inclement weather, Sally, Jed and Joe all were requested to appear as witnesses for the prosecution, and by requested, one could assume that insisted, was closer to the truth.

Sally saw it as a grand adventure. Jed, on the other hand, dreaded stepping into a courtroom again, even if he was going as a witness this time, rather than the defendant.

“You’re going to have to get used to this,” Hannibal told his cousin, as he was packing for the trip. “In our new profession, it’s highly likely that we will be called in to court on many of our cases.”

“Oh great!” Jed grumbled. “Ya’ never mentioned that, when we discussed starting up an investigation company.”

Heyes shrugged. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Well, it weren’t to me, Heyes,” Jed complained. “I thought all we’d have ta’ do, is catch the bad guys. All that lawyer stuff would be up ta’ Steven ta’ work out.”

“And it will be,” Heyes concurred. “With our help.”

Jed groaned.

Heyes grinned and slapped his cousin on the back. “C’mon. After our last court appearances, this is going to be a walk in the park. Besides, I’ll be there as well, for moral support.”

“You’re there to give moral support to your daughter,” Jed pointed out. “And rightly so, I guess. Since Miranda ain’t goin’.”

“Yeah.” Heyes looked crestfallen. “She’s not feeling up to the trip. Those herbs that Apache woman gave her in Texas, are helping, but they also make her tired, so she doesn’t feel up to a train trip in the winter time.”

“I can understand that,” Jed agreed. “She’s better off stayin’ home. Ahh, I’ll be fine, Heyes. It’s no big deal, really.”

“Nope,” Heyes agreed. “Not for us.”

Xxx

It wasn’t until Sally arrived at the court house in Denver, that she became a little nervous. The large, red brick building was intimidating for a young child, and Heyes felt his daughter’s hand tighten slightly upon his, as they ascended the front steps. Her eyes were wide with awe, and her curiosity soon took over from her nervousness. As they entered the front hallway, her gaze went everywhere, taking in everything. She even tripped over her own feet while she was gazing up at the impressive ceiling.

Hannibal chuckled as he prevented her from falling. “I know, this is all new to you, but you do have to watch where you’re going, Sweetheart.”

The only response he got from Sally, was a face, filled with wonder, briefly looking up at him and then breaking away, once more, to scan this amazing environment. 

This time, it was Jed’s turn to chuckled. “I gotta admit, whenever I’ve been in one ‘a these places, I ain’t never taken the time ta’ appreciate the design of the place.”

“Yeah, me too,” Heyes admitted. “Usually had too many other things on my mind. Ahh, through the eyes of a child.”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh, here’s the courtroom,” Heyes announced. “I think this is where we need to go.”

The trio approached the large open doors of the courtroom and were met just inside the entrance, by an official looking court bailiff. 

“Good morning,” Heyes greeted him. “My daughter is here to testify in the Baird case. Is this where we need to be?”

“Yessir,” the bailiff assured him. “What is your daughter’s name?”

“Sally Heyes.”

The bailiff scanned down his list of witnesses and then nodded when he came across it. “Ah yes, there you are. You may take a seat down at the front, on the left hand side. Anywhere in the first two rows.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Sally repeated to him.

The bailiff smiled down at her. “You’re welcome, young lady.”

“Ah, I’m here as a witness, as well,” Jed said. “For both the Baird case and the Shuster case.”

“And your name, sir?”

“Jedidiah Curry.”

There was a slight shift in the atmosphere as the two names registered with the bailiff. He was a young man, but obviously not so young as to not have heard of the infamous pair. He handled himself professionally though, and merely scanned his list of witnesses again, until he found the required name.

“Yessir,” he confirmed. “You may all take your seats, up front. The Baird case should be starting shortly.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Did Deputy Joe Morin accompany you?” The bailiff asked, as he caught that name also on the list, and from the same hometown.

“Apparently, he’s not due to testify until tomorrow,” Heyes explained. “He’ll be coming in then.”

“Ah yes. That’s fine.”

Walking down the aisle, between the rows of benches, both Heyes and Jed were casually scanning the other people in the room. There wasn’t that big a crowd, and most had already taken their seats, though some were still standing and discussing points of interest with other attendees. 

“I don’t see Isabelle or Harry here,” Jed commented.

“Yeah, I noticed that,” Heyes concurred. “I know the two sisters don’t like each other, but you’d think Isabelle would at least put in an appearance.”

“I guess there ain’t no accountin’ for family.”

“Hmm. Oh, there’s Mr. Bailey.”

The lawyer was a young man, blond hair, blue eyes, and an average build. Though he didn’t quite have the same spark that Steven had, he still exuded confidence and intelligence, even this early on in his career. Still, this case hardly had the same high profile as the Heyes and Curry trials, so Mr. Bailey was not having to deal with the same pressure that Steven had had to, so early on in his career. Steven had done well in a no win situation, and he had proven his worth. Hopefully this young lawyer would accomplish the same. 

Mr. Bailey spotted them and came to meet them half way.

“Good morning, Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry,” he said, as they shook hands. “You’re just in time.” Then he squatted down to be on eye level with Sally and he shook her hand as well. “Good morning, Miss Heyes. How are you feeling today?”

“Good morning,” Sally answered him and smiled nervously. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” he said. “Because there is nothing for you to be nervous about. When you are called to the stand, you just go up to that chair over there. I’ll ask you the same questions that I did yesterday, in my office. You answer them like you did then. Okay?”

“Alright.”

“Okay. Now, Mr. Maxwell, the defending attorney might want to ask you some questions as well. Just answer them as simply and precisely as you can. Don’t offer up information if he doesn’t ask you for it. Just answer the question. Okay?”

“You already told me that,” Sally pointed out. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

Mr. Bailey smiled. “I know you are.” He stood back up and nodded to Heyes. “She’ll do fine.”

“Mmm hmm,” Heyes agreed.

“If you want to get settled, I’ll be joining you over there, shortly.”

“That’s fine, Mr. Bailey.”

The small group headed to the first row of seats and sat down. 

Jed sighed, dramatically. “Here we are again. I hate sittin’ up here. Brings back too many bad memories.”

“I like it!” Sally announced. “I can actually see what’s going on.”

The two adults smiled at each other, over the child’s red hair. She seemed to be handling the situation better than they were.

Then Heyes felt a tapping on his shoulder, just as something caught Jed’s eye, and he glanced back, behind them.

“Harry!” 

“Hey, Harry,” Heyes greeted him. “We were thinking you weren’t going to make it.”

“Peaches was doing her best not to,” Harry explained. “But I finally laid down the law, and insisted we come. She’s none too happy about it, though.”

All three men looked back to the center line of seating, and the storm cloud hovering over Isabelle’s face could not be mistaken.

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “I can tell.”

“I put my foot down,” Harry continued. “Despite hard feelings, this is her sister. She needs to put a show of support.”

“Good for you, Harry,” Jed complimented him. “Sometimes ya’ just gotta be the boss.”

“Exactly, Kid,” Harry agreed. “Besides, we gotta keep track of where the money’s goin’. If we’re not careful, the loan we got from the bank is gonna exceed what we get for the ranch. Gotta be careful about these things. Gotta stay on top of that defence lawyer. Whatever his name is.”

“I think it’s Maxwell,” Heyes commented.

“Yes, you’re right,” Harry concurred. “Very good, Heyes.”

“Thanks, Harry. That means a lot coming from you.”

Harry puffed up with his own self-importance, and he gave Heyes a pat on the shoulder.

“Praise given when it’s deserved, Heyes. Given when deserved.”

“Uh huh.”

“Now, I better get back to Peaches,” the detective observed. “People are beginning to move away from her.”

“See ya’ later, Harry,” Jed told him.

Harry nodded and made his way back to where his seething wife was stoically sitting.

“He’s gonna have trouble with that one,” Jed commented.

“Hmm, yeah think?” Heyes concurred. “The best we can hope for, is that they don’t reproduce.”

Jed snorted.

Sally looked back at the couple, then up at her father. “Why is Miss Baird…I mean, Mrs. Briscoe, in such a bad mood?”

“Oh well,” Heyes thought fast. “I’m sure she’s just worried about her sister.”

“Oh.” Sally nodded her understanding and settled in to wait.

Once the trial got underway, it didn’t take very long to come to a conclusion. The only witness for the defense was Isabelle’s aunt and since she was becoming feeble of mind, her testimony didn’t amount to much.

It was a relief to all when Jed was called to testify, because, at least his narrative was coherent and logical.

“Mr. Curry,” Mr. Bailey addressed the witness. “Could you please give the court an account of what you, yourself, witnessed in these events.”

“Sure,” Jed agreed. “My first indication a’ trouble was when I went to the pasture ta’ get my horse and I discovered that Sally’s mare was missin’. There were also indications that Sally was the one who had taken her. I rode back in ta’ town ta’ let Sally’s grandma know that somethin’ was up, and that I was gonna try and follow the tracks, an’ find her.”

“You let her grandmother know?” Mr. Bailey asked. “Why not her parents?”

“Ah, well, her folks were on their honeymoon,” Jed explained. “Sally was in the care of her grandparents.”

There was some speculative mumbling from the peanut gallery concerning the timing of these events, and Mr. Bailey thought it would be good to clarify. Didn’t want to leave people with the wrong impression.

“Is it safe to assume that this was a much delayed honeymoon?” he asked the witness. “Considering the fact that they already have a child.”

Jed felt a slight irritation at this line of questioning, thinking that it had nothing what-so-ever to do with the case. But then taking a look at the assembly and noting the expressions of disapproval coming back at him, he agreed with Bailey, that some clarification might be required.

“Yeah, it was delayed,” Jed concurred. “But not by as long as you’re thinkin’. Ya’ see, Heyes and Miranda adopted Sally on the day they got married. Life kind’a took over for a while after that, so they didn’t get around ta’ a honeymoon until recently.”

The reaction from the assembly, to this information, was double-sided. Some smiled and nodded their heads in approval, while others slumped in disappointment. Those people had been hoping for a scandal in the making.

“Of course,” Mr. Bailey accepted the explanation. “Carry on, Mr. Curry. What happened next?”

“I rode back out to the pasture and picked up Sally’s trail from there,” Jed continued. “It didn’t take long ta’ find her, neither. I was about half a mile from the Baird ranch, when I spotted her mare, with Sally aboard, gallopin’ towards me.  
“Even from that distance, I could tell that Fannie was runnin’ scared, and I wondered why Sally wasn’t doin’ nothin’ ta’ bring her under control. I got my horse in position ta’ cut the mare off and get her stopped, and that’s when I saw that Sally’s hands were tied to the saddle horn…”

Heyes didn’t realize that he had tensed up with anger at this narrative, until he felt his daughter’s hand on his arm.

“It’s alright, Papa,” she whispered to him. “Fannie looked after me.”

Heyes relaxed and smiled down at her. “I know, Darlin’,” he whispered back, as he squeezed her little hand. “Fanny did a good job.”

Sally grinned and nodded.

“…She was scared ta’ death…” Jed continued.

“I wasn’t that scared,” Sally whispered in her own defense.

“…and kept repeatin’ that they had tried to kidnap her.”

“They, as in who?” Mr. Bailey asked.

“It was a man and a woman,” Jed explained. “She only named the woman as Courtney Baird. Sally didn’t recognize the man.”

Heyes saw Courtney’s back tense when Jed spoke her name out loud. Mr. Maxwell leaned over and whispered something in her ear, and she relaxed again.

“Alright,” Mr. Bailey accepted that. “What happened next?”

“I got Sally back to her grandma as quick as I could,” Jed carried on. “Then me and Joe, ah Deputy Morin, we packed up some supplies and headed back to the ranch ta’ see if we could pick up their trail. Sally had said that they were plannin’ on meetin’ up with Courtney’s pa in order ta’ give ‘im some money. We were both pretty keen on catchin’ them two, and we did. It was durin’ that time, when Luke Shuster took a shot at me.”

“Yes, Mr. Curry,” Mr. Bailey interrupted. “You will have the opportunity to testify at Mr. Shuster’s trial. For now, please stick to the events surrounding Miss. Baird’s case.”

“Uh huh,” Jed conceded, though he couldn’t really see how to separate them.

“So, did Miss Baird actually meet up with her father at this time?” 

“Yeah, she did. And gave him some money.”

“Is this when you and the Deputy made the arrest?”

“No,” Jed answered. “We was hopin’ Ole man Baird would lead us back to his sons, but he didn’t have the chance. True ta’ form, Baird became angry over somethin’ and made the move to hit Miss Baird, and then all hell broke loose. Turns out that Wheat Carlson, who had been ridin’ with the posse, had followed Baird to this clearin’, and took a shot at ‘im. He missed, and Baird grabbed his daughter ta’ use as a shield.”

Grumbling of sympathetic disapproval rose up from the assembly. Those who had come with a pre-conceived opinion of Courtney Baird’s guilt, now found themselves viewing her as a helpless victim under the control of a brutal man.

“I think we was all tryin’ ta’ get in a shot at Baird, but none of us could chance it,” Jed continued. “Now, not wantin’ ta’ combine the two cases, mind ya’, but it was then that Shuster took his shot at me. I was distracted…” Quiet laughter from the assembly. “…and I turned to deal with that threat. I shot him in the arm and took ‘im out’a the situation. I was aware ‘a more shootin’ goin’ on in the clearin’, but I was focused on Shuster.   
“It turns out that Deputy Morin got his clear shot at Baird, and he took it, killin’ ‘im where he stood. Courtney ran back toward us, and Deputy Morin caught her. He put her and Shuster under arrest.”

“Alright. Thank you, Mr. Curry,” Mr. Bailey said. “No more questions.”

“Mr. Maxwell,” the judge moved things along. “Do you have any questions for this witness?”

“Yes, I do, Your Honour,” Mr. Maxwell stood up and approached the witness. “Mr. Curry, that was a very interesting narrative. But it is still simple hearsay that Miss Baird attempted to kidnap the child. Is there any actually proof of this?”

“Yeah,” Jed insisted. “Sally’s hands tied to the saddle horn, for one. Her word, for another. Not ta’ mention both Shuster and Miss Baird acknowledged it, each in their efforts to accuse the other.”

“So Miss Baird openly admitted to the attempted kidnapping of Miss Heyes?”

“Yeah!”

“Did she openly admit to being the instigator of that attempt?” 

“Luke Shuster accused her of bein’ that.”

Maxwell chuckled, and shrugged that off. 

“Of course, he’s going to try to shift the blame,” he pointed out. “How do you know that he was speaking the truth? Obviously, Miss Baird, by your own witness, has been the victim of abuse from her father. A young woman who has grown up in that situation is easily swayed by a man’s opinion and wishes. Do you not think it likely that Mr. Shuster was the one who instigated the attempt to kidnap the child, and Miss Baird only went along with it because she feared retribution, if she refused?”

Sally was just about to jump up to deny that suggestion, when her father stopped her.

“I know it’s hard,” he whispered. “But you’ll have your turn to say what happened. Be patient.”

Sally let loose a huge sigh, but settled back into her seat to await her turn in the witness box.

Jed smirked at the suggestion. “Neither of them sisters is wiltin’ flowers, Mr. Maxwell,” he pointed out. “The abuses they suffered at the hands of their pa, didn’t make ‘em submissive, it made ‘em tough. Some might even say, mean.”

“Oh come now, Mr. Curry,” Mr. Maxwell pushed. “Do you really think that a woman, even one who has had the unfortunate up-bringing that Miss Baird has had, would intentionally do anything to harm a child?”

Jed came close to loosing his professionalism with this enquiry, and only held on to his self-control by the skin of his teeth.

“Yeah, Mr. Maxwell, I do!” he came close to shouting. “My wife and I lost our first baby because of a woman who was quite capable of harmin’ anyone, includin’ a child, in order to get what she wanted! They ain’t all filled with maternal love! They can be just as cold and ruthless as any man, and some, even more so. So yes! I do think a woman is capable of it!”

A heavy weight fell upon the assembly at this explosive testimonial. The men tended to feel a strong sense of masculine protection towards the fairer sex and told themselves that there must have been something terribly wrong with a woman who would do such a thing. Or better yet, that the witness was mistaken in his accusation. Being over-come with grief at the lose of his child, he placed blame on the most convenient person, who, in his case, was an unfortunate woman.

The ladies, however, tutted their sympathy over the lose of a child, and even though Courtney wasn’t the lady in question, support for her situation was beginning to wan in that quarter. Though most of the men were being manipulated by Mr. Maxwell into thinking that a woman was not capable of such treachery, the women were not buying into it.

Heyes felt his heart constrict while listening to the raw emotion in his cousin’s outburst. It didn’t matter how much time goes by, or how many other children you have, you never get over the loss of that one. He felt his own throat tighten with memories over that devastating event and knew that Jed was feeling the same thing. 

Again, it was the touch of his daughter’s small hand on his, that brought him back to the present. He smiled down at her and nodded.

“I’m alright,” he assured her.

Sally accepted that, and went back to listening to the proceedings.

“I am sorry for your loss,” Mr. Maxwell responded. “But you cannot allow the grief of that one event to cloud your judgement of this woman and her situation.”

“I ain’t lettin’ it cloud my judgement,” Jed insisted. “I’m simply tellin’ ya’ what happened.”

“Alright, Mr. Curry. I have no more questions.”

“Fine, Mr. Maxwell,” the judge stated. “Mr. Curry, you may return to your seat. Mr. Bailey, do you have any more witnesses for the prosecution?” 

“Yes, one more for today,” Mr. Bailey announced. “I would like to call Miss Sally Heyes to the stand.”

“There you go,” Heyes whispered. “It’s your turn to shine. Just answer the questions and tell it like it is.”

“Yes, Papa, I know,” she said. “Don’t worry; I’ll be fine.”

Heyes smiled and sent his daughter on her way.

Jed sent her an encouraging smile as they passed one another. He then sat back down and sighed, heavily.

“Damn, I hate bein’ up there,” he admitted, again. “And I gotta do it again for Shuster’s trial. How do we get ourselves inta’ these situations, Heyes?”

“I’m not the one being called up as a witness,” Heyes pointed out. “This is all on you, cousin.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Heyes grinned. “Anytime.”

Sally got herself seating in the witness chair and allowed herself to be sworn in, even though she didn’t really understand the significance of it.

“How are you, today, Miss Heyes?” Mr. Bailey asked her.

“I’m fine,” Sally responded. “How are you?”

Chuckling from the assembly was quickly terminated by the judge, and the proceedings continued.

“I’m fine,” Mr. Bailey told her, with a smile. “Are you ready to answer some questions?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Can you tell us what happened that day, and why you decided to skip school and ride out to the Baird ranch all by yourself?”

“Yes,” Sally agreed. “I got a message from the dog, Blu, who lived there, that he needed help.”

“The dog sent you a message?” Mr. Bailey questioned. This was a new one on him.

“Yes,” Sally confirmed. “And it was important too. He was scared and desperate. I needed to get to him, even if it meant breaking the rules, and skipping school.”

“Okay,” Mr. Bailey accepted that, putting the statement down to a child’s fantasy. “What happened after you got out to the ranch?”

“I was finally able to get Blu to come out of hiding,” Sally explained. “He was very scared, you see, and didn’t want to come out at first. But he was hungry, and I coaxed him out with my sandwich. But while I was feeding him, inside the barn, I heard people arriving outside. Even though I recognized Miss Baird, I didn’t think it was safe to go out, so I stayed hidden. I overheard them talking.”

“And what were they talking about?” Mr. Bailey prompted her.

“Miss Baird was angry,” Sally continued. “There was a man with her, who I didn’t know, and they didn’t seem to like each other. Miss Baird was giving him money to take even more money to a place called Deke’s Canyon. They seemed to be arguing a lot. Then Fanny whinnied, and they knew I was there. The man grabbed me, and pulled me out of the barn. Blu tried to protect me, but Miss Baird was his rightful owner, so he had to listen to her.”

“So, this man pulled you out of the barn, against your will?” Mr. Bailey asked her.

“Yes.”

“What happened then?”

“They started asking me what I had over-heard,” Sally explained. “Then they started arguing over what to do with me. The man didn’t seem to know, he was just mad. Then Miss Baird suggested that he take me with him, when he went to meet up with her pa. When he didn’t want to do it, Miss Baird then suggested that they just kill me.”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Bailey interrupted her. “I don’t think the court heard the last part of your statement. Could you please repeat it, louder?”

Sally swallowed down her tears at the memory of this incident, but she nodded bravely, and continued on. 

“When the man didn’t want to take me with him, Miss Baird told him to just kill me, instead.”

Heyes’ jaw tightened and he felt his fists begin to clench all on their own. His angry gaze bore holes in Courtney’s back as this new information sank in. No matter what the outcome of this trial, that woman better never show her face in Brookswood again.

“I see,” Mr. Bailey responded, as he sent a quick glance back at the defendant. “And what did the man say to that?”

“He didn’t want to,” Sally continued. “He said that the last thing he needed was an angry Hannibal Heyes on his trail. I don’t know what he meant.”

“Yes, well…” Mr. Bailey sent another quick glace back, only this time it was to the father. The look on Mr. Heyes’ face was enough to convince Mr. Bailey that Shuster had, at least, shown some wisdom in that decision. “So then what happened?”

“The man, she kept calling him Luke, decided to take me with him,” Sally continued. “They brought Fanny out of the barn and found a saddle for her. I tried to tell them that it was okay to just let me go home, and that I wouldn’t tell anyone that I had seen them, but they didn’t listen to me. He lifted me up into the saddle and tied my hands to the horn. He used baling twine, and it hurt.”

Sally sniffed, as the memories of that event brought tears to her eyes. She looked to her father, and Heyes smiled at her, and nodded. Taking comfort from that, she took a deep breath and continued.

“The man was leading Fanny over to his own horse, when Blu attacked him.” She smiled with the memory of this event. “Blu grabbed hold of his ankle and wouldn’t let go. The man dropped Fanny’s reins, and she decided that it was time to leave. She got into a gallop right away, and though they tried to stop her, she was too fast for them. I called for Blu, and he came with us, and we got away.”

“And that was when you ran into Mr. Curry?”

Sally looked at her Uncle Jed, and smiled. “Yes. I don’t know what Miss Baird and that man did, after that.”

“That’s fine, Miss Heyes,” Mr. Bailey assured her. “I think we have a good enough idea of what transpired after that. Now, one last thing. Are you positive that the woman you saw out at the ranch that day, was indeed the defendant, Miss Courtney Baird?”

“Yes.” Sally was adamant.

“Is she in this courtroom?”

“Yes.”

“Can you point her out for us?”

Without hesitation, Sally pointed directly at Courtney.

“Thank you, Miss Heyes. I have no more questions, Your Honour.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bailey,” the judge responded. “Mr. Maxwell, do you have any questions for this witness?”

“Yes, Your Honour,” Mr. Maxwell stood and approached the witness. “Miss Heyes, how old are you?”

“Ten,” Sally answered.

Heyes cringed. Don’t start lying now.

“Ten?” Mr. Maxwell questioned.

“Well, almost,” Sally admitted.

“Well,” Mr. Maxwell nodded with satisfaction. “So, almost.”

“Yessir.”

“You’re young and impressionable, Miss Heyes,” Mr. Maxwell continued. “Could it be that your dislike of the defendant might have tainted your view of the events that transpired out at the ranch that day?”

Sally frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Mr. Maxwell smiled. “’Almost’ doesn’t really cut it, in a court of law, young lady. If you’re not sure of your own age, perhaps you’re not so sure of what you witnessed that day, either. Is it not more likely that the man, rather than the woman, would have been more inclined to suggest the kidnapping and murder of a young child?”

Sally’s frown deepened. “No. She is the one who said it, not him. He didn’t want to.”

“Perhaps there was more going on there, than what you could understand,” Mr. Maxwell continued. “Could it not be possible that Miss Baird was feeling threatened by her male associate, and was simply agreeing with him, in order to protect herself?”

“I object, Your Honour,” Mr. Bailey stood up and announced. “This is pure conjecture, and it goes completely against what the witness has already stated.”

“I concur,” the Judge agreed. “Mr. Maxwell, please drop this line of questioning. The witness has already stated that it was the defendant who suggested the activities.”

“I am merely trying to show that the witness, being so young and impressionable, may be mistaken in her view of what happened,” Mr. Maxwell argued. “She has already shown confusion as to her own age.”

“This is ridiculous,” the Judge countered. “I have yet to meet a child who does not exaggerate their age! For some reason, they are all in a hurry to grow up. Please move on.”

“Yes, Your Honour,” Mr. Maxwell grudgingly agreed. “Miss Heyes, could you tell the court again, why you were out at the property in the first place? The ranch had nothing to do with you, or your family, so why were you trespassing?”

Sally sighed in frustration, trying to deal with this obtuseness. “Like I said, Blu called to me, and told me that he was in trouble. He needed my help.”

“He called to you?” Mr. Maxwell repeated and then smiled with indulgence. “How did he do that, from such a distance?”

“I don’t know,” Sally shrugged. “He just did. I could hear him in my mind.”

Heyes groaned. This was the last thing they needed. People who had never experienced Sally’s intuitiveness would never understand it. Damn, he didn’t understand it, but at least he had learned to accept it. But would a court of law accept it? Highly doubtful. Indeed, after what Heyes had experienced with the local doctor in Yuma, he would not be surprised if there were those here, who might end up accusing the young child of witchcraft.

But how do you tell a nine-year-old not to discuss such things in public? To her, it was just as natural and normal as carrying on a verbal conversation with her friends.

“You could hear him, in your mind?” Mr. Maxwell repeated, and smiling broadly, he turned to looked back at the assembly. He picked up on different emotions from the group, going from skepticism to outright worry, but very little acceptance. Thinking that he finally had a way to discredit this young witness, he went for the throat. “Perhaps you could give us an example of this ability, here and now?”

Sally sighed again. This was getting boring.

“I don’t really like you, Mr. Maxwell,” she admitted, and a few chuckles arose from the gathering. “But I am still sorry for your loss.”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Maxwell asked her. “What loss?”

“You were just thinking that if your son were still alive, that he would be about the same age as me,” Sally explained. “I’m really sorry that he died.”

Silence settled over the proceedings until a suspicious murmuring began to grow. Both Heyes and Jed were ready to pounce at any suggestion that Sally might be in danger. Mr. Maxwell stood transfixed, his shocked expression locked onto the girl in front of him. The judge rapped his gavel and insisted on order in the court.

“Mr. Maxwell,” he said, as everyone quieted down. “You are looking decidedly pale. Would you like to call for a recess?”

“No. No, Your Honour, that’s fine,” Mr. Maxwell responded. “I’m fine. That’s very impressive, young lady,” he continued. “I’m sure you were given that information, as it is hardly a secret. As it is, I have not more questions for this witness.”

At which point, Mr. Maxwell turned on his heel and retreated to his place beside Miss Baird.

“Thank you, young lady,” the judge said to Sally. “You may return to your father now.”

“Yessir,” Sally said, and quickly stepped down and went back to her seat.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, feeling concerned.

“No, Darlin’,” Heyes assured her. “You did fine.”

“Yeah. Ya’ did better than me,” Jed concurred. “Ain’t many people can cause a lawyer ta’ get caught flat-footed.”

The judge’s gavel brought everyone’s attention to the front of the courtroom.

“Court is adjourned for the day,” he announced. “Those witnesses who have already testified need not return unless you are specifically requested to. I thank you for your contribution. Everyone else, court will continue at 9:00 am tomorrow morning.” Another bang of the gavel, and the session was closed.

The courtroom was in a sudden flurry of activity as everyone stood up and made their way towards the exit. 

“That’s it for us, I think,” Heyes stated as Mr. Bailey collected his papers. “Unless you want Sally back for the Shuster trial.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the young lawyer informed him. “We have her statement now concerning what happened. That should do it. But stay in town, just in case. You did a fine job, Miss Heyes. Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No sir,” Sally agreed as she and Mr. Bailey shook hands. “I don’t mind coming back again, if you want.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay.”

Bailey straightened up and looked at the Kid. “You’ll be here for Mr. Shuster’s trial, I take it?”

“Yeah,” Jed concurred with disappointment. “I guess so.”

“Attempted murder is a serious charge,” Mr. Bailey reminded him. “We will need testimonies from both you and Deputy Morin if we want to get a conviction. Mr. Morin will be here for that, won’t he?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here. I expect he’ll be here tonight, in case ya’ need ‘im for this case,” Jed assured him. “Oh, and its acting Sheriff Morin now. Not deputy.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. Well, Mr. Heyes, thank you for your assistance, and to you as well, Miss Heyes. Mr. Curry, I will see you again in a couple of days.”

“Yup.”

“Oh!” Heyes announced as he noticed Mr. Maxwell getting ready to leave the courtroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Jed frowned in confusion. “Yeah, okay, Heyes.” 

Heyes hurried over to intercept the defense attorney. “Mr. Maxwell! Can I have a quick word?”

Maxwell turned to him, looking slightly put out. “What is it, Mr. Heyes?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Maxwell. I won’t keep you,” Heyes responded. “I just wanted to make sure that you meant what you said, concerning my daughter’s testimony.”

“You mean about her comment concerning my son?”

“Yes.”

“Of course. It’s common knowledge that my son was killed in a riding accident four years ago,” Maxwell informed him. “Personally, I think it was a low blow to use a child in that way. I can’t blame the child, but I do blame the lawyer. Obviously both of you were in on it.”

“And what about her statement that you had just been thinking about your son?” Heyes pushed. “What do you accredit that to?”

“A child’s very vivid imagination!” Maxwell snapped. “It would be impossible for her to actually know that.”

“So, you weren’t thinking that your son would be the same age as my daughter, had he lived?”

“Of course not!” Maxwell insisted, his face becoming pale and tight with anger. “And I have no more to say about it. Excuse me!”

“Thank you, Mr. Maxwell,” Heyes grinned. “That’s all I needed to know.”

“What was that all about?” Jed asked, as Heyes joined up with him and Sally again.

“I just wanted to make sure that Mr. Maxwell wasn’t going to start spreading nasty rumours,” Heyes explained. “It seems, thank goodness, that he is a man of little imagination.”

Xxx

The following day, Joe put in an appearance. His testimony went a long way to collaborate what Jed and Sally had already stated. Things were not looking good for Courtney Baird, that is, until Mr. Maxwell put his client on the stand.

The senor Miss Baird approached the witness chair with her eyes red-rimmed with crying, and her hands shaking with emotion. She sat down with a sniff and dabbed at her moist lashes with an embroidered hanky given to her by her dear, sweet, aunt.

Heyes, Sally and the Kid had joined Harry and Isabelle in the assembly seating now that they were no longer required to testify. Isabelle’s comments throughout the proceedings were more entertaining than the testimonials, themselves. She started her assault with a roll of her eyes, as her sister made her way to the stand, and she didn’t let up, until Courtney was finished with her narrative. 

“Are you alright, Miss Baird?” Mr. Maxwell asked her. “Do you think you are up to answering some questions?”

“Oh yes,” Courtney meekly assured him. “I shall do my best.”

Isabelle sighed. “Oh c’mon,” she grumbled. “You live for a captive audience like this. Just get on with it.”

Heyes and Jed exchanged smiles. Courtney was even better at playing the poor, helpless female than Clementine was, and that’s saying something.

“Fine,” Mr. Maxwell continued. “Just relax and take your time. Just begin telling the court what happened that day your father and brother were killed.”

Much to her sister’s disgust, Courtney tried to stifle a shuddering breath and then began her narrative.

“I’m sure you can all imagine how upset I was, when I heard about what had happened,” she began. “I couldn’t believe that my family were being accused of such a horrendous crime. I still firmly believe that my father and brother are completely innocent of any wrong-doing, but, I suppose there’s nothing we can do about that now.”

“You believe that your brother was innocent of murdering Sheriff Jacobs?” Mr. Maxwell questioned her. This was new.

“Of course!” Courtney expostulated. “Why, my family felt nothing but friendship and respect for Sheriff Jacobs. For Emmitt to be accused of murdering him, in cold blood is simply too shocking to be believed!”

Isabelle sighed. “Oh please!” she whispered. “Most of the conversation around the dinner table, was about what a nuisance the sheriff was, and that the best thing that could happen for our family was for someone to take him out.”

“Who do you think murdered him?” Mr. Maxwell asked his witness.

“How should I know?” Courtney answered defensively. “Maybe it was Jed Curry! He’s a notorious gunman. Or maybe Deputy Morin. He always did covet the sheriff’s position!”

“What!” Joe reacted a bit too strongly and Mr. Bailey tried to settle him.

“Silence in the courtroom!” the judge insisted, as the gavel came down. “Your testimony has already been noted, Sheriff Morin.”

Joe shook his head with the unmitigated gall of the witness’s statement, but realized the futility of reacting to it now. He nodded to Mr. Bailey and settled back into his seat, again. “My apologies to the court,” he said. “It won’t happen again.”

“Fine,” the judge accepted that. “Please, continue, Mr. Maxwell.” 

“Yessir. Now, Miss Baird, my apologies. I got you off track with that last question,” Mr. Maxwell stated. “I realize that it must have come as quite a shock to hear about what happened, but please keep in mind, that it has already been proven in a court of law, that your eldest brother, Emmitt Baird, fired the weapon that killed Sheriff Jacobs.”

Courtney snorted, looking and sounding very much like her sister. “I don’t believe it,” she said. “Is was all just mumbo jumbo dressed up to look like evidence. Why, if I truly believed, for just one moment that my brother and father were guilty of such a terrible crime, I would never have tried to help them.”

“Yes, of course,” Maxwell agreed. “Certainly, if you thought they were innocent, it’s only natural that you would try to help your own family.”

“Yes!”

“And Mr. Shuster, how did he come into this?”

“Oh well, Luke Shuster has been a friend of our family for many years,” Courtney explained. “A fine, upstanding, gentleman.”

Another sighed from Isabelle. “He was a low-life vagabond. Only came around when he needed money, and did as little work as he possibly could, in order to get it, too.”

“Kind’a sounds familiar, don’t it, Heyes?” Jed whispered.

Heyes was trying hard not to laugh. “Yep.”

Courtney continued. “I contacted him as soon as I heard about our family troubles, and we made arrangements for him to take my life’s savings up to Deke’s Canyon, and give it to my father.”

“Did you not realize that such an action is against the law?” Maxwell asked her.

“I realize it now!” Courtney snapped, and then the tears started to come and the hanky came into play. “All I was trying to do was help my family. Isn’t that what a good daughter is suppose to do?”

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Maxwell agreed, just in an attempt to calm her down. “So, what happened out at your ranch?”

“Well!” Courtney huffed up with indignation. “Mr. Shuster tried to swindle me! All I wanted him to do was sign for the money that I was giving him. He refused! Can you believe it?”

“Perhaps he refused because he knew that what he was about to do, was illegal.”

“Then why did he agree to do it, in the first place?” Courtney demanded to know. “And then that child showed up!”

“You mean, Miss Heyes?” Mr. Maxwell clarified.

“Yes!” Courtney confirmed. “What that child was doing, hiding in our barn, is beyond me. I don’t know what awful rumours that girl had been listening to, but she acted as though she had fallen into hades itself. She was in an absolute panic, ranting and raving about how we were going to kill her, and throw down the well. Can you imagine? The poor thing was so confused.”

“So, you and Mr. Shuster did not attempt to kidnap her, or threaten to kill her?”

“Of course not!” Courtney insisted. “What kind of a woman, do you think I am? We were trying to calm her down, but she got away from us and took off towards town, screaming blue murder. Well! I was already aware of the poor opinion that those town folks had of me and my family, so I decided to get out of there while I still could, and take the money up to my father myself.”

“And Mr. Shuster, what did he do?”

“Obviously, he followed me,” Courtney stated, with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Yes, he did,” Mr. Maxwell agreed. “So, you were able to meet up with your father and give him the money?”

“Yes.”

“And was he pleased with the amount you brought?”

“Well,” Courtney hesitated. “He had hoped for more, but he realized that I brought all that I had, and he thanked me for that.”

“And yet, both Jed Curry and Sheriff Morin have testified that your father attempted to hit you, is that correct?”

“Well,” Courtney shuffled. “He was upset, and under a lot of strain. And well, he did have a bit of a tempter. But, we really are a loving family.”

Isabelle snorted this time. “She really is laying it on thick. Loving family, my ass.”

“Peaches, please,” Harry scolded her. “No need to speak like that in public.”

Isabelle smiled at her husband, and patted his hand. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry.”

Heyes and Jed exchanged looks. That was different. Maybe Harry was making headway.

“Is it not true,” Mr. Maxwell continued. “That your father was a brutal man, and could be quite harsh in his punishments where you and your sister were concerned?”

“Well…I…”

“Is it not possible, Miss Baird, that you were afraid of your father?”

“Afraid of him!?” Courtney repeated, and puffed herself up with indignation. “Afraid of that old bag of…”

“And might that not be why you took that money to him?” Mr. Maxwell quickly cut her off. “Because you knew that if you defied his wishes, he would find some way to punish you for it? And that is why you chose to break the law and attempt to help him, in his escape from justice.”

“Object, Your Honour!” Mr. Bailey announced, as he stood up. “Mr. Maxwell is deliberately leading the witness.”

“Agreed,” the judge stated. “Mr. Maxwell, please allow your witness to state the situation in her own words.”

“Of course, Your Honour. My apologies.”

But the seed had already been planted. Courtney’s eyes lit up as she realized the out that she was being offered, and she jumped on it like a pro. In an instant, her eyes filled with tears, and a shaky hand brought the hanky up to dab at eyes, and wipe a nose.

“Yes, you are correct, Mr. Maxwell,” her quivering voice admitted. “You found out our family secret. My father was a brutal man. I was very much afraid of him. Not only for myself, but for a younger sister as well.”

“Oh please,” Isabelle grumbled. “That’s why you always took off to stay with our aunt, leaving me there alone to fend off that brute. I swear, Courtney should be on the stage.”

“That’s why I took the money to him,” Courtney continued. “I knew that he would find me, somehow, and maybe even kill me, if I did not. He always found a way to punish us. He was a cruel, cruel man, and my older brother was no better! I had to do what he told me. I was so afraid of him. I would never have dreamt of breaking the law, otherwise. I feel absolutely terrible now, about the whole thing.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are,” Mr. Maxwell consoled her. “I have no more questions, Your Honour.”

The defense attorney turned back to his chair, and a quick scan of the assembly told him that he had made an impression. Tight-lipped men were shaking their heads with disgust at a father who could be so brutal, and many of the ladies had their own hankies out and dabbing at moist eyes.

“He sure do know how to spin a tale, don’t he?” Jed commented.

“Yeah,” Heyes agreed, sounding dubious. “But it just might get Courtney the sympathy vote. A lot of people have a hard time believing that a woman can be that treacherous.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Isabelle told them.

“Mr. Bailey,” the judge continued. “Would you like to question the witness?”

“Oh yes, Your Honour,” Mr. Bailey accepted. “Thank you.”

Mr. Bailey approached the witness and smiled at her.

“Miss Baird,” he greeted her. “Are you feeling up to continuing?”

Courtney attempted a soppy smile, and with one final sniff, nodded agreement.

“Fine,” Mr. Bailey continued. “There is one detail that I’m a little fuzzy on. I’m hoping that you can clarify it for me.”

“I’ll certainly try to.”

“In the matter of Sally Heyes, you stated that you did not threaten to kill her, or even to take her captive, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Courtney insisted. “I mean, you could all see for yourselves, from the child’s testimony yesterday, that she has a wild imagination, and tends to believe her own flights of fancy. She panicked, that’s all. We were only trying to help her.”

“Then why is it,” Mr. Bailey questioned, “that when Mr. Curry found her, her hands were tightly bound with bailing twin, and tied to the horn of her saddle?”

Courtney’s expression turned blank, and her mouth dropped open in anticipation of speaking, but no words came forth.

“Miss Baird?”

“Oh! Well…that was…because…she was in such a panic!” Courtney finally sputtered out. “We tied her to her saddle to prevent her from hurting herself. She was out of control, running in circles, and screaming. We had to do something.”

“I have had a number of conversations with Miss Heyes over the last few days,” Mr. Bailey pointed out. “She struck me as an extremely intelligent and articulate young lady, and hardly one to being prone to hysterics.”

“Well, she was very upset, that day.”

“But why would she be?” Mr. Bailey pushed. “She knew you, and aside from being frightened at having been found hiding in your barn, there was no reason for her to become so terrified as to behave in the manner that you have described. Indeed, if you were concerned about the child’s welfare, why not simply scold her for trespassing, put her on her horse, and send her on her way?”

“Because she over-heard us talking!” Courtney blurted out. “I was all for letting her go, despite the danger that it could put us in, but Luke Shuster insisted that we could not. It was him all along! He was going to kill her, to keep her quiet, but I was able to talk him out of it. I convinced him to take Sally as a hostage instead, that she could be a good bargaining tool, if the posse caught up with my father. I was only trying to save her life. Luke Shuster is a cruel, cruel man! He wouldn’t have hesitated to kill her, if I hadn’t stepped in.”

“Miss Baird, you are aware that you are under oath, are you not?” Mr. Bailey asked her.

“Yes, of course!” she insisted through her new round of sobs.

“I just wanted to make sure,” Mr. Bailey explained. “Since your story seems to change with every passing moment.”

Courtney broke down completely, she wailed like a baby and complained bitterly through her tears. “I’m going to go to prison just for trying to help my family!”

Mr. Bailey sighed and turned away from her in disgust. “I have no more questions, Your Honour.”

Xxx

Later that evening, the group of friends, Hannibal, with a sleepy Sally in tow, Jed, Harry, Isabelle, and Joe were seated around the large table at the restaurant, having supper. Isabelle was still not happy.

“Six months!” she snarked. “I can’t believe that is all she got.”

“I’m not surprised,” Heyes said. “We’ve seen this kind of thing, before. You get an all male jury, and none of them are willing to come forward and state that a woman is capable of such treachery.”

“Yeah,” Jed agreed. “And you can bet that Luke Shuster won’t get off that lightly. Everythin’ is gonna wind up bein’ his fault.”

“That’s not fair,” Sally commented over a yawn. “She was the one making all the decisions, not him.”

“We know that, Sally,” her father assured her. “But often juries don’t see things the same way.”

“Is that why you went to prison, Papa?” she asked innocently. “Because the jury didn’t see things the way they really happened?”

“Ahh,” Heyes hesitated.

Jed waited to see what the genius came up with. 

Finally, Heyes sighed and gave it up.

“No, Darlin’,” he had to admit. “I’m afraid I can’t lay claim to that. In my case, the jury saw things pretty clearly.”

“Oh.” Sally thought about that for a moment. “Well, I’m glad.”

“You’re glad that your pa went to prison?” Isabelle asked her, not quite believing her ears. 

“Yes!” Sally insisted.

“Why?”

“Because if he hadn’t gone to prison, then he would never have met me,” Sally’s logic ran forth. “And I’m really glad that he met me.”

Smiles made their way around the table, and Heyes gave is daughter a hug.

“I’m glad I met you, too,” her father told her. “Now, finish up your supper. It’s been an eventful couple of days for you, and I know you’re tired.”

“Yes, Papa.”

Xxx

As things turned out, Jed’s prediction was bang on accurate. After a rather short trial, Luke Shuster got saddled with full responsibility for Courtney’s actions. The jury was far more comfortable believing that a man could be ruthless enough to harm a child, than admit that a woman would even dream of such a thing.

So, even though Courtney got six months for aiding and abetting, Luke got ten years for aiding and abetting, attempted kidnapping and attempted murder. If he was lucky, he might get out in eight.

Neither one of them showed their faces back in Brookswood again.

 

To Be Continued.


	20. Life Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of Wedded Bliss. 
> 
> I hope that I have wrapped things up, to everyone's satisfaction. Thank you all, for joining me on this journey. It has been quite a ride. Enjoy.

Life Goes On

 

Percy trotted down the well-packed snow covered road leading into the Jordan's main yard. He was tossing his head in his excitement of being out for a brisk, crisp ride on this wintery Christmas Eve day. The sky was overcast and the air held the tingle of snow, but that just added to the festive spirit, and Percy wasn't immune to it, by any means. The sleigh he pulled was laced with bells, and his humans were laughing and singing Christmas carols in time with the jingling of the harness.

The gray gelding snorted and then nickered, playfully, at the horses out in the pasture. They, in turn, kicked up their heels and trotted along beside the new arrivals and sent out their own greetings.

The dogs were next to get into the act, and the Jordan’s new dog, Kaylee, came galloping out of the barn, barking joyously, with tail wagging and tongue lolling. She danced and jumped around in front of Percy who tucked his head and tried to avoid trampling her, then gave it up and left it to her to stay out from under his hooves. The Double J dog was then distracted by Blu running up from behind the sleigh. Good friends by this time, they greeted one another, joyously, and combined their efforts to escort the sleigh down to the barn.

The two little dogs were too old for this kind of nonsense now, and simple stood by the barn door, and barked at the new arrivals. Having completed their duty, they both retreated into the barn and returned to their cozy dens in the hay.

Hannibal pulled the sleigh to a halt at the barn door and Ben appeared to take hold of Percy's head. The young man had been fortunate, in that he had recovered from his ordeal enough, to be able to come back to work. He had lost weight, and looked drawn and pale compared to the vibrant young man who had first begun working for the Double J, but at least he was on his feet, and getting after it. His face was relatively clear of any scaring from the burns he had received, and with the heavy jacket, long sleeves, and gloves, covering those areas that were affected, it would be easy to assume that he had not suffered any injuries at all.

“Merry Christmas, Ben!” Hannibal greeted the young man. “Joining us for dinner today?”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Mr. And Mrs. Heyes,” Ben responded. “No sir. As soon as I get your gelding settled here, I'll be heading home to spend the rest of the day with my folks.”

“Well that's nice,” Hannibal commented as he stepped around to help his bulky wife down from the conveyance. 

Sally scrambled down from her seat in the back, and knowing that dogs weren’t allowed in her grandparents’ house, she gave Blu and hug, and sent off to play with Kaylee. Blu barked an excited farewell and galloped off to tackle Kaylee from behind, and sent both of them rolling through the loose snow, to come up laughing and excited with their play. Sally, content that Blu was having fun on his own, turned and made a run for the front door of the ranch house.

“I don't see a posse, Miss Heyes!” Hannibal called after her. “What's your hurry?”

“Let her be, Hannibal,” Miranda told him, as she tried to see the step that she knew was down there, somewhere. “You know how much she loves Belle's spiced apple cider.”

“Oh, yeah. And her apple pie!” Han smiled with anticipation, himself. “Still, nothing like that hot cider after a chilly ride out from town.” He glanced down at his wife's foot trying to feel its way. “Need some help?”

“I would appreciate it, yes,” Randa commented, dryly. “Just manoeuvre my foot onto the step. I can't see it.”

“Oh. Here, put your hands on my shoulders. Okay good. Now just...you alright?”

“Yes. Oh Percy, stand still!”

“Sorry ma'am!” Ben called from Percy's head. “I guess he's eager to get out with his buddies.”

Heyes leaned down and taking his wife's booted ankle in his hand, he gently guided it, until it rested firmly on the carriage step. Reaching up, he took hold on her waist and helped her to reach ground level.

“Oh, thank you,” she said as she straightened her clothing out. “It will be so nice to have my own figure back again.”

“Won't be long now,” Hannibal assured her.

“Easy for you to say!” she teased him.

He gave her a cheeky smile and offering his arm to her, they made their way towards the front porch.

“Jesse! Merry Christmas!” Hannibal called out, when he spied their host, still on crutches, waiting for them, by the door.

“Hello!” Jesse responded. “We thought it might be you when Kaylee barked, but Sally, running full speed towards the cider bowl, pretty much confirmed it.”

Heyes smiled and nodded enthusiastically. He wouldn't mind some hot spiced cider, himself.

“Do you need some help?” Jesse asked, hopefully, as the couple approached the steps.

“I think, I can manage,” Miranda assured him, as she grasped the hand railing with her free hand. “One step at a time.”

Hannibal helped his wife navigate the steps, and soon they found themselves in the warmth and welcoming atmosphere of the large ranch house that both he and Jed still thought of as their home.

“Here, let me take your coats,” Jesse offered, and despite his own handicaps, helped Miranda out of her bulky layers.

Laughter and conversation were ringing from the family room, and the couple made their way in, to find themselves places to sit and enjoy the company. Sally had put her cup of cider on the table, so that she and J.J. could play checkers. Rosie was sitting on the carpet beside them, wanting to join in, but not sure how to go about it. Bridget and Steven were sitting by the fire, taking turns bouncing Rachel off a knee, while Beth, with Thaddeus, had found a place next to the big, brightly decorated Christmas tree. Young as he was, little T.J. was fascinated by the sparkling bulbs that danced with the reflection of the fire playing upon their surfaces. He was giggling with delight and trying to reach out and grab them.

Belle showed up carrying two more cups of cider and handed them over to the two new arrivals, just as they were getting settled.

“Here you are,” she smiled with Christmas cheer. “This ought to warm you up. Glad you got here before it started snowing.”

Hannibal stood and gave Belle a kiss on the cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” he told her. “As usual, you've turned this into a perfect day.”

“It's hardly over yet, Joshua!” she teased him. “Let's not jinx it!”

He smiled and gave her another kiss. “Whatever you say.”

He took the offered cider and handing one to his wife, he sat back down to enjoy the warmth of the gathering.

“Thank you, Belle,” Miranda said. “You make the best spiced cider.”

Belle smiled with pleasure. “My grandmother brought the recipe with her from England. It is nice, isn't it?”

Everyone agreed and proceeded to tap cups with companions, who were within reach, in a toast to the hostess.

Belle laughed at their antics as she headed back to the kitchen. “Dinner will be awhile yet,” she stated over her shoulder. “So help yourselves to the goodies!”

Hannibal snatched himself a small piece of fruit cake then glanced around the gathering to take note of someone's absence.

“Where's Jed?” he asked Beth. “Don't tell me he's in the kitchen 'helping' Belle with the bird!”

“Oh no!” Beth laughed. “He still had some things to do at home, so he sent me and Thaddeus along ahead of him, in the sleigh, just in case it started snowing. He'll be along.”

“Oh,” Heyes thought about that. “Well, I wonder if I should go meet him.”

“We just got here!” Miranda complained. “You've barely had a chance to warm up.”

“I know,” Heyes agreed. “I'll finish my cider and have another piece of cake. You don't mind do you?”

“Oh, I suppose not,” Miranda gave in. “You and that cousin of yours. I swear, you're joined at the hip.”

Hannibal smiled and gave his wife a kiss. “I won't be gone long.” 

Xxx

Jesse had suggested that Heyes take the paint gelding, Spike, on his little rendezvous, as that fellow hadn't had much exercise of late and could do with an outing. Jesse had been right, too. The gelding was eager to pick up a quick gait, even leaving the barn, and once warmed up, was happy to get into a lope and stay with it for the duration.

Heyes had timed the ride well. About half a mile away from the Curry residence, he spotted his cousin riding towards him. As soon as Jed saw him, he took off his hat and waved it in the air.

“Hello!!” came the distant greeting.

Heyes grinned and returning the wave, asked Spike for a longer stride. The two friends met up, just as the snow began to fall.

“Hey, Partner!” Heyes greeted him. 

“Heyes, what are ya' doin'?” Jed asked him, playfully. “House full 'a kids got ya' feelin' antsy?”

“No, no,” Heyes denied. “Just wanted to make sure you didn't get lost.”

“Well, that's right neighbourly of ya'.”

“It's the least I can do on Christmas.”

“Uh huh. Haven't seen ya' in a few days. Everything okay?”

“Sure,” Heyes responded. “Why wouldn't it be?”

“Heyes, remember who you're talkin' to,” Kid griped. “You always get a little melancholy this time 'a year. So, I'm just askin'. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Heyes nodded.

The two men rode on in silence for a moment, the falling snow giving the ride a whimsical, almost fairy tale ambiance to it. Both horses were happily jogging along, tossing their heads and blowing steam from their nostrils. Life was good. Jed waited for more.

“I got to thinking,” Heyes finally continued.

“Uh huh.”

“Just what have we done over this past year, Kid?” he asked. “I mean, of any real importance.”

“What do ya’ mean?” Jed demanded, with some surprise. “It’s been a real good year. And on top ‘a that, you're out ‘a prison, for one thing. You're not on parole anymore, either. Remember what that was like? Geez Heyes, for a smart man, you got a real short memory.” 

Heyes shrugged. “Yeah, but those were things that were out of my control. I mean, what have we done, intentionally, to make a difference?”

“We tracked down Karma's lineage for Jesse,” Jed carried on down the list. “and we gave Ames and Wheat and Kyle some real jobs to keep 'em out'a trouble.”

“That was last year,” Heyes continued to be a pessimist. “I'm talking about this year.”

Jed heaved a big sigh. “Well, we’re both doin’ okay financially now, because ‘a that job we did for Finney. Not ta’ mention, we're takin’ on two parolees to come work for us in the spring. That's gotta count for somethin'.”

“Well, yeah that’s true, about the money and all,” Heyes agreed. “But the parolees are next year. And money is fleeting. It doesn’t always last. What have we actually done, this past year, that's of any real significance at all?”

“Stayed alive and out of jail?” Jed was starting to get frustrated. “Well, at least I have. On the most part. C'mon Heyes. Can't ya' just enjoy the season for what it is, and stop tryin' ta' make it into a competition. Why does everything have to be a competition?”

Heyes smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you're right, Kid. Let's just enjoy the season. C'mon, this snow is really picking up. Belle's got her famous hot spiced cider waiting for us.”

“Oh!” Jed's eyes lit up. “Say no more, Heyes. Let's go!”

Giving the eager horses a nudge, both animals snatched the opportunity, and kicking up snow, they powered up into a hand gallop and made short work of the distance to the Double J ranch house.

Xxx

Once again, stepping through the front door, Heyes was met with the warmth and comfort that seemed to come hand in hand within this household. Jed smiled as he felt it too, and they quickly dispensed with coats and gloves and hats and boots.

“There you are!” Belle greeted them, as she arrived right on time with more cider. “Hello, Thaddeus. Here, have some cider. Go warm up by the fire.”

“Yes ma'am,” Jed gave his mother-in-law a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Belle.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” she smiled at them. “Now off you go. Your wives are waiting for you.”

The partners stood for a moment, warming their hands on the cups of cider. They sipped the spicy drink while looking into the family room and watching the antics of both the adults and the children.

Beth looked over at them and smiled to her husband. She had T.J. sitting on her knee and he was smiling and giggling at the antics of his uncle and cousins, as they played on the carpet. She turned him a little so he could see the front door, and as soon as his eyes lit upon his father, he yelled out a happy greeting and raised his hands, in an effort to reach him.

Jed laughed.

Hannibal was watching his wife. She had insisted on standing up and getting her own piece of fruit cake and was now doing her best to sit back down again. The descent onto the sofa was awkward, at best, and her expression was one of grudging acceptance of her situation. Once she was settled, she also looked over towards the front door, and caught her husband silently laughing at her. She rolled her eyes and patted the empty space next to her, inviting him to come and re-join the group.

Heyes laughed.

“Heyes...”

“Kid....”

“I know exactly....”

“.... what we did this year.”

They grinned at each other, eyes dancing with mischief, and tapped their mugs together in a toast to each other’s virility.

“Merry Christmas, Hannibal.”

“Merry Christmas, Jed.”

Xxx

As usual, dinner was a huge success at the Jordan home. It was decided that Christmas Eve would be for family only, and then, friends and neighbours had been invited to come by Christmas Day, to indulge in a buffet that was likely to begin with brunch and last through until the cold winter sun began it’s decline.

Hannibal was enjoying himself, sitting with the family, around the dinner table. Jed, living so much closer, and having a hand in running the ranch, saw the Jordan’s far more often than he did. Jesse was looking so much better than he had in the autumn. The sunken look to his features had filled in, and the paleness of his complexion had warmed up again, to healthy tones. He might not be able to ride anymore, but from what Heyes could tell, he still had a lot of years ahead of him as patriarch of the Double J.

Belle was Belle. Always happy, always kind. Even though Jed was her son-in-law, Hannibal knew that she loved both of them, despite Heyes’ tendency towards the dark side. She had done so much to help him keep going, during his years in prison; her letters, her gifts, her warm, unconditional love, had been an anchor when the rest of the world was going mad. And she always seemed to know, too, even now, when he was down or melancholy, and would sent kind thoughts his way, even when there was distance between them. 

He looked at her, and smiled. She caught his wide, sparkling grin and her eyes asked the question. He shrugged and shook his head, indicating that it wasn’t important, but at the same time, raised his glass of wine and sent her a quiet toast.

“Oh, Joshua,” she mouthed to him. “You’re being silly.”

Hannibal’s smile deepened, and that little boy mischievousness that made all the ladies fall in love with him, took over his countenance, and he chuckled out loud.

Miranda caught the mood, and drew herself away from the dinner conversation.

“What?” She asked him. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he said, and sent Belle a twinkle.

Miranda followed the twinkle, and realized that there had been a silent conversation going on between the two of them.

“What?” She asked again.

“Nothing,” her husband insisted, and leaned over to give her a kiss.

She snorkeled. “Oh, you two. If I didn’t know better, I’d be jealous.”

“Never,” he said, and snuggled in to her neck, tickling her with his breath. “You’re my one and only.”

“Really, you two!” Beth teased them, laughingly. “Must you flirt at the dinner table?”

“I don’t see nothin’ wrong with it,” Jed commented, and moved in to give his own wife a neck tickled.

Beth shrieked and pushed him away, but still laughed. “Jed! You know I’m ticklish!”

Sally started to giggle and then that started the whole brood laughing. Except for J.J. He didn’t see what the joke was, and thought the adults were just being silly.

Belle and Jesse exchanged smiles along the table. There had been too many Christmases in the recent past, where this family had been splintered, and a weight of worry had blanketed them, despite efforts to make the season joyful. But tonight, no effort was needed at all. The family was all here, along with the promise of it’s newest member’s imminent arrival.

On this Christmas Eve, life was good. Indeed, it was far better than Hannibal or Jed could ever remember. All they had to do now, was help to keep it that way.

Xxx

The New Year of 1893 came with its own share of ups and downs. The engagement announcement of Joe and Pansy came as no surprise to anyone. Nor did the fact that Joe experienced a landslide victory in the shortest election campaign for sheriff, that Brookswood had ever had. The fact that Joe had already proven himself over and over again, in his role as deputy, probably had a lot to do with the fact that nobody else even came close to ousting him from the position.

On the down side, Pebbles and Peanut decided that it was time to follow Rufus and Ellie to that dog nebula in the sky. People claim that this journey was one that had to be taken alone, but those two little dogs, who had done everything together in life, decided to buck the odds and prove their humans wrong. They held paws, and passed away together, nestled up snuggly in their warm bed of hay.

J.J. found them in the morning, with Kaylee wrapped protectively around them. She wacked her tail on the floorboards, when her young human came in to relieve her of her duty. She was still young, and didn’t know quite what she was suppose to do under these circumstances. But when J.J. came over and patted her, and told her that she was a good girl, she gave him a sad smile, touched each of her elderly friends with her nose, and left the barn.

The two little bodies were kept safe in an ice box, until spring came to thaw the ground. Then they were laid to rest up on the hill, alongside the faithful Rufus and the loyal Ellie.

Xxx

Ranching was always hard work in the winter time, and the winter of ’93 was no exception. Even though their fledgling company was financially secure, neither of the partners wanted to dip into the company funds unless absolutely necessary. 

Jed found himself helping out with the livestock, while Heyes took on security at the Brookswood Saloon. Heyes had the decency to feel guilty about the uneven work load, but Jed had laughed it off. He was of the opinion that once parolees began showing up at his doorstep, Heyes was the one who would be pulling the heavy duty. 

That, in itself, posed another worry. Where were those parolees going to stay once they arrived? For that matter, where was Nathan Brenner going to stay? Was their company going to be responsible for putting everyone up at the hotel, or would they all be put up out at the Double J? That hardly seemed fair to Belle and Jesse. Perhaps they could stay at the Second Chance until their situations could be sorted out. Although, that wouldn’t work for Mr. Brenner. Obviously, he needed to be where Heyes was. Suddenly, their little house in town was bursting at the seams, even before people began to arrive.

But nothing was going to happen any time soon, and Heyes was confident that they would work it all out. He was enjoying his job, his family and his new life-style. He could easily appreciate the difference between spending the winter freezing his butt off, in the leader’s cabin in Devil’s Hole, and cuddling with his wife in their cozy little home, in town.

Heyes sat back comfortably in the soft sofa with his wife snuggled in beside him. His eyes were closed, and a quiet smile lay upon his lips, as the music played soothingly to them in the semi-darkness of the warm room. The fire was still crackling, sending out more heat now than was necessary, and both Hannibal and Miranda had opened up their dressing gowns in order to be more comfortable.

Two glasses, half filled with red wine, sat on the small table before them, but neither of them felt inclined to sit up to retrieve them. This was bliss. It must be at least 1:00 in the morning, and the full moon outside sent beams of soft light through the slit in the curtains of their living room window. It was early February and there was still snow on the ground. The night was crisp and clear, and the white ground covering sparkled in the moonlight, making it feel like Christmas all over again.

Their daughter had long since gone to bed, with the dog in tow. Now, the cat had just recently stirred from her place in front of the fire, to go sleep cuddled up to the little girl. The couple were alone with their wine and the soft music, scratchy as it was on the old music box. But they didn't care. These were the kinds of evenings that Heyes had dreamed about, and he was going to enjoy them.

Hannibal sighed, contentedly, but nothing else moved or changed upon his countenance. Miranda smiled and rubbed a hand along his arm.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked him quietly.

“Nothing.”

“You must be thinking about something.”

Heyes sighed again and pulled his wife in closer. “Okay,” he agreed. “I'm thinking about how happy I am.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” Heyes asked her. “Happy? Or thinking about it?”

“Happy.”

Heyes opened his eyes and gazed down at her. He reached over and cupped her face in his hand and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Yes.”

He sat up straighter, and bracing himself with his shoulder against the back of the sofa, he gently slid his other hand through the opening in his wife's dressing gown. He caressed her tummy through her night dress, and his smile expanded into a dimpled grin. She settled back into him even more and looked up into his dark eyes. They kissed, long and passionately.

“Oh!”

“Oh!”

“Did you feel that?” Randa asked him.

“Yes.”

“That's been happening a lot more lately. Somebody's getting restless in there.”

Heyes grinned even more and sitting up, he opened her dressing gown and gently caressed her rather extended belly.

“Hello in there,” he said, somewhere in the vicinity of her naval. “Are you ready to come out?”

His eyes lit up and his face exploded with childish delight.

“Did you see that?” She asked him.

“Yes! He kicked.”

“Or 'she'.”

“Yes. Or she,” he accepted that. “It doesn't matter. I know, I said that I would like a son this time, but the closer we get to it, the less concerned I am about that. Another daughter would be just fine.”

Miranda shifted suddenly, trying to get more comfortable.

“Oh, someone is restless tonight,” she commented. “I hope I'll sleep.”

“Can I look?” Heyes asked, in a tone of such childish hope that Miranda couldn't help but laugh.

“Again?” She asked. “You see me every night.”

“I know,” Heyes admitted sheepishly. “But it's so amazing. I've been a father before, but I've never been there, right from the start, before. I've never been around for the pregnancy. It's just so amazing.”

“Well, you kind of missed the first few months of this one too, didn't you,” Miranda pointed out.

“Yes, I did,” Heyes acknowledged. “You sure know how to give a fella a welcome home present.”

“I thought you were going to fall over.”

“I almost did!” Heyes admitted. “But it was a wonderful surprise.”

“Good.”

“So, can I look?”

Miranda laughed. “My, but you are persistent!”

Heyes grinned again, and getting to his feet, he held out his hands for his wife to take. Miranda sighed, as she, once again, gave in to his wiles. Taking his hands, she allowed him to assist her to her feet. Not such an easy endeavour at eight months along.

She stood and smiled at him and then allowed her dressing gown to slip off her shoulders and slide gently down, to settle on the sofa. He leaned in and kissed her, and his hands came up to the ribbon at her throat. He gently pulled the bow loose, and the night dress opened up around the neck line to settle wide along her shoulders.

He slid his hands under the material and pushed the gown off her shoulders, so that the soft material slid silently down to nestle around her ankles. He smiled at her and kissed her again. He stood back and gazed upon her nakedness, enjoying how the light from the moon and the flickering fire danced upon her form, creating shadows and warmth upon her body.

His hands caressed her belly, feeling the tautness of it, the roundness of it. The eroticism of it. He sighed appreciatively and moved in to wrap his arms around her and hold her in a close hug. She felt so beautiful; hard and soft in all the right places. He kissed her again, and she returned it whole-heartedly, her arms embracing him and holding him close. Then they both jumped and giggled.

“Did you feel that?”

“It wasn't just your belly that got kicked that time.”

Bringing his hands around, he caressed her breasts and then slid down to his knees, allowing his hands to slide down with him and then close in upon the extended belly that was now at eye level.

“Hello in there,” he greeted his off-spring again, and grinned when he saw another kick come his way.

He felt Miranda running her hands through his hair, and he kissed her belly before standing up to face her again. He stepped back, looking at her at arm’s length and marvelling at how lucky he was. She was glowing in the moonlight and, indeed, he thought whimsically, that her pregnant belly looked like the full moon that was hanging in the sparkling sky.

“Like a Hunter's moon,” he mumbled quietly.

“What was that?” Miranda asked him.

“Your belly,” he explained. “It reminds me of the Hunter's moon. That's a good omen. I can't remember how many times a Hunter's moon had shown us the way, when we thought there was no way out. It's a good sign.”

He knelt down and pulled her nightdress up again and gently re-tied the bow at her neck.

“It's late,” he whispered. “Time we got to bed, Mrs. Heyes.”

She smiled. “Lead the way, Mr. Heyes. Me and the moon will gladly follow.”

Xxx

“Looks like you're in for an interestin’ birthday,” Jed teased his cousin.

Heyes sighed and nodded, taking the comment very seriously.

“Who would have thought?” He asked, in some awe. “Kind of gives opening your presents' a whole new meaning, doesn't it?”

“I don't know why I'm surprised,” Jed grumbled. “You always gotta stand out in a crowd, don't ya', Heyes? Ya' always gotta do everything one better. I'm beginnin’ ta’ think, you intentionally timed it this way.”

“Oh now, that's just ridiculous, Kid,” Heyes protested. “How in the world am I supposed to time something like this? I didn't even know Randa was expecting until she was already a couple of months along. You know that.”

“I know, Heyes,” Jed continued to rub it in. “I'm just sayin'; it seems way too much of a coincidence, that your baby decides to show up, right on your birthday.”

“Well, he's not here yet,” Heyes snarked. “You know how long these things can take. We could be well into the 25th before...”

“Uh huh,” Jed sounded sceptical. “Considerin' it's only 7:00 in the a.m., I'd say chances are pretty good, Jr. is going to be just like his pa, and insist on makin' a grand entrance.”

“You two seem awfully convinced that it's going to be a boy,” Beth observed from the kitchen table, where she was busy placating her son. “What happened to 'I'm fine with another girl, honestly.' Really Hannibal, you can be so transparent sometimes.”

“What?” Heyes was feeling ganged up on. “I am fine with another girl! It's just a figure of speech.”

“Oh you two, stop teasing him,” Belle reprimanded with a laugh. “He's got a tough enough day ahead of him, without the added stress of trying to defend himself.”

Heyes grinned and headed over to his one defender.

“Thank you,” he said, graciously, and took Belle into a grateful hug.

She laughed at him and turning away from the cook stove, she accepted the hug from her friend.

“Oh, Joshua.” She couldn't help but tease him a little herself. “You know your day wouldn't be complete without Thaddeus teasing you about something. Besides that, he does have a point.”

“Hmm.”

“I think the eggs are done,” Sally announced from her position on the other side of the stove. “Is anybody going to eat breakfast?”

“You bet!” Jed didn't waste any time in grabbing a plate. 

“Yes, I'll have something too,” Beth seconded. “It been such a long day, already. I’m glad Jed and I made the trip in yesterday. I’m so proud of him, riding back out to the ranch early this morning, to let you all know that the time was eminent.” 

Jed grinned, as he sat back down at the table, with his plateful of eggs.

“It weren’t all that courageous,” he stated. “I’d brave the blackest night and the coldest temperatures over sittin’ here and listenin’ ta’ Heyes pace.”

Belle sent him a smile, knowing that the teasing was just beginning. Then she turned to the distracted father-to-be.

“Joshua, how about you?” She asked, as she placed the platter of bacon onto the middle of the table.

“Oh no,” Heyes gave the food a queasy look. “I couldn't eat right now. Maybe some coffee though.”

“Here, Papa,” Sally brought the coffee pot over and poured another cup for her pa.

“Thank you, Sweetheart.”

Heyes picked up the cup and sipped at the hot liquid. Then he started to pace—again. The four other people in the room exchanged glances, as they sat down to their own breakfast. They were all far too familiar with this pattern to be surprised by it.

“Joshua,” Belle queried, “why don’t you take your coffee and go sit with Miranda?”

Heyes looked up sharply and stopped his pacing.

“Oh,” he mumbled. “Oh, I...”

“Perhaps David would like a cup,” Belle continued, ignoring Hannibal’s hesitation. “Better yet, ask him if he wants something to eat. I don't think he's had any breakfast yet, either.”

“Oh. Well...”

A gentle knocking came to the front door, and then it opened, letting in a blast of chilly temperatures. Jesse leaned against the wall and used his cane to knock the snow off his boots. It might take him a little longer to get the stock tended to, especially under current circumstances, but he’d be danged if he’d allow himself to be delegated to the back bleachers, when it came to pulling his own weight. He was just about to step into the kitchen, when the door opened again, and he stepped aside to let Tricia get in to the warmth. She closed the door behind her, and both of them began to shed winter coats.

“Impeccable timing, Papa,” Beth teased her father. “Breakfast is just now ready.”

Jesse smiled. “You don't get to by my age without learning a thing or two about timing.” He accepted a cup of steaming coffee from his wife while sending Heyes a raised eyebrow. “What are you doing out here? Don't you think you should be in there, with your wife?”

“Oh, I don't think she...”

“That's where I'm heading, first off,” Tricia declared. “I'll eat later.” And true to her word she headed straight for the bedroom and knocked on the door. A quiet response from inside and she went in, closing the door behind her.

Everyone looked at Heyes. Heyes looked back at everyone.

Finally, Jed pushed himself away from the table, and his breakfast. 

“C'mon Heyes,” he said, as he stood up. “We gotta talk.” And taking his cousin by the arm, he began to lead him down the hallway towards the living room in the back of the house.

Knowing looks made their way around the table, and Jesse sat down to scrambled eggs and bacon. 

The bedroom door opened and David quietly nipped out, his nose twitching.

“Do I smell bacon and coffee?” He asked, hopefully

Belle laughed. “Of course. Come and have something,”

She started to stand up and get David a plate, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“You sit and have your own breakfast,” he told her. “I can get it. Miranda is fine for now with Tricia and Nancy in there with her. But I don't like to be away from first time mothers for long.”

Everyone at the table responded with a chorus of: “Yes, we know, David.”

David smiled sheepishly, as he poured a coffee and sat down at the table.

“Would Miranda like anything?” Belle asked. “I can make her some Chamomile tea.”

“Yes,” David agreed. “That would be good for her. But don't rush, Belle. Finish your breakfast.”

“Oh, don't be silly,” Belle told him. “The water's already hot, I just have to pour it. This way it'll be ready when you go back in.” She quickly set out the tea pot, placed the leaves in the bell and poured the steaming water from the stove into the pot. “There. Done. Anything else she would like?”

“Yes,” David said, pointedly. “Her husband.”

Xxx

“What's gotten into you?”

“Nothing'!”

“C'mon Heyes.” Jed wasn't buying it. “What are ya' doin', hangin' around in the kitchen? Why ain't you in there with your wife?”

“She's got David and Nancy and now Tricia in there with her,” Heyes reasoned. “She doesn't need me in there, gettin' in the way.”

“Heyes.” Kid couldn't believe his ears. “What do ya' mean; she don't need you? You're the main person she does need. C'mon, what's the matter?”

“I donno,” Heyes shrugged and wouldn't look at his cousin. “It's just....”

“You were all excited about this. Couldn't wait,” Jed continued to push. “Now you're hangin' around out here, drinkin' coffee?”

Heyes swallowed nervously and his skin took on a decidedly clammy complexion.

“What if something goes wrong?” He finally answered in barely more than a whisper. “Going through those medical journals made me wonder how anybody could survive childbirth; so many things can go wrong, Jed. Even David has lost some, and he's the best doctor I know of. What if...jeez Kid, I don't know what I'd do, if I lost Randa. I mean, even the little graveyard here is full of women and babies that died in....what if I lose her?”

“Aww Heyes,” Jed put a consolatory hand on his shoulder. “You and your damn book-learnin'. I gotta wonder if it's really worth it; seein' how all that information addles your innards. Ya' can't be thinkin' about stuff like that. I mean David doesn't think anything is gonna go wrong. You trust David don't ya’?”

“Sure I do,” Heyes insisted. “Like I said; he's the best I know, but even he doesn't always...”

“No, he don't,” Jed admitted. “But he's still your best bet. C'mon Heyes; ya' just gotta forget about all that bad stuff that 'might' happen, and enjoy the good stuff that will happen.” Jed's face broke out into a huge grin, and he laughed, giving Heyes a bit of a shake. “You just gotta jump in there with both feet and grab hold of it. Heyes, there's nothin' like it. There's nothin' like bein' right there and watchin' your own babe comin' into the world. You've missed out on that too many times already. Ya' can't miss out on it this time, Heyes—ya' just can't.”

Heyes took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah, I know you're right,” he conceded. “I just can't stop thinking about...”

“Well, stop thinkin', for once in your life!” Jed admonished him. “Just get in there with your wife and be with her for this. You'll never forgive yourself, if’n ya' don't, and you know it!”

Heyes took another deep breath, but this time, resolve came with it.

“You're right, Kid,” he smiled at his cousin. “Thanks. You better get back to your breakfast before there's none left.”

The two men returned to the front rooms, and while Jed sat down at the table again, Heyes moved to the coffee pot. All eyes were on him, wondering what the next move was going to be. He smiled as he replenished his coffee, feeling a little ashamed of himself.

“Um, I'm going to go sit with Miranda for a while,” he told the group.

“Good,” said David. “She's been asking for you.”

“Oh.” Now Heyes really felt bad. “Sorry.”

“Here,” Belle said as she stood up, yet again. “I’ve made her some tea, and it's about ready now, so why don't you take a cup in to her.”

“Oh yeah.” Heyes accepted the steaming cup and headed over to their bedroom. He hesitated for a moment, then used his foot to knock on the door.

Almost instantly, the door opened, and Nancy was giving him a scolding look. 

“Well, it's about time,” she said. “I'm going to get some breakfast, myself, before things get busy. Well, go on—get in there.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Heyes smiled and entered the room. 

He stood for a moment, his back against the door and simply gazed at his wife. Randa smiled up at him and beckoned him over. Pushing himself off the door, he walked over to the bed and settled the two cups onto the night table.

“I'll leave you two alone for now,” Tricia said, as she stood up.

“Oh, you don't need to leave,” Heyes told her.

“Don't be silly, Hannibal,” Tricia admonished him, with a laugh. “Besides, I'm hungry, too. Don't worry,” she put a reassuring hand on his arm. “David will be back in here soon enough. You know what a mother hen he is at times like this.”

Heyes smiled. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Tricia turned and gave her cousin a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I'll see you soon,” she said and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Don't be too long about this; my neighbour can only handle my two hellions for so long.”

Randa smiled. “I'll try and accommodate you.”

“Okay.” Tricia gave Heyes another pat on the arm and disappeared from the room, leaving Hannibal and his wife alone for the time being.

Heyes sat down in the chair that Tricia had just vacated, and took his wife's hand in his.

“You okay?” He asked her.

“I'm fine,” she responded pointedly. “How about you?”

“Sorry about that,” Heyes apologized. “I guess that's one of the problems with having an over-active imagination. I thought myself into a corner and couldn't get out of it.”

“Okay,” Randa smiled and put her other hand over-top of his. “Just don't let it happen again. I need you in here with me.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Is that tea?”

“Yes ma'am.”

Xxx

Five hours later, Hannibal was standing up better than he thought he would. Jed had been right. All he'd had to do was get in there and be a part of it, and he'd do fine. Miranda was who amazed him the most. She was so calm and focused throughout the whole labour. She handled the spasms and the cramps like a real trooper and seemed to barely break a sweat, even as the contractions grew stronger.

Hannibal sat with her the whole time; there was no way he was going to leave now. He was as wrapped up in the whole process as his wife was, and his previous excitement of becoming a new dad again, reclaimed its hold. He held Miranda's hand, kissing her fingers and keeping her in stitches by telling her silly jokes and old outlaw stories. Embellished, of course, with antidotes of misadventures and finger pointing at who was to blame. 

Miranda would laugh at his antics, until a contraction would hit, and her focus, of course, would turn inwards. At these times, Heyes would hold her hand in both of his and would whisper endearments to her, between doing his own breathing exercises. When the contractions would ease, she would slap his arm and tell him to stop being so silly.

Even David was surprised at their tomfoolery. Most new fathers were at their wits end by this time and more stressed out than their wives. Especially after Hannibal's initial hesitation to join in, David had been preparing himself for the worst. But Heyes seemed to be having the time of his life, as though he knew that nothing bad was going to happen. He gave himself permission to relax and be a part of the experience. 

With her husband calm, and even playful, Miranda felt at ease and secure. It all seemed to be going so much easier than she had expected. Perhaps, because she was older and had already been through so much in life, this new experience did not hold the terrors for her, as it might for a much younger bride. She felt the pain, she acknowledged the pain, but it didn't frighten her, and she didn't fight it.

Even when David asked Tricia to please have Nancy come in now to assist, and to also bring lots of towels—more than usual, the two expectant parents did not feel much concern.

“You're obviously doing very well, Miranda,” David commented quietly. “But would you like anything for the pain?”

Miranda and Hannibal exchanged looks, and Miranda smiled through her panting and shook her head.

“I think I'm actually going to be fine, David,” she assured him, with a hint of surprise in her voice.

David nodded and cocked a brow to Hannibal. “How about you?” He asked with a wry smile. “You need a shot of something?”

Heyes chuckled through his tiredness. “No David. I'm fine.”

“You sure now?” David teased. “I wouldn't want you falling over from shock.”

Heyes sent him a look. “I think I'll manage.”

“Okay. Just making sure.”

“OHH! Oh my!” 

“You're doing fine, Miranda. Though, it seems you don't need me to tell you that. I feel like I'm just along for the ride here, at least for now.” He sent a quick glance towards the bedroom door. “What's keeping Nancy?”

As soon as the question was asked, the door opened and Nancy walked in, carrying two large armfuls of towels and swaddling blankets. Close behind her, Tricia arrived with a basin of hot water and even more towels. With the arrival of these tokens, Heyes and Miranda gazed at each other with sparkling eyes, and they both giggled with excitement. Everyone was tired, but Miranda's labour had been relatively short and mild when compared to others that David had presided over. It was only now, as they were coming close to the delivery, that she started exhibiting some strain.

The contractions started to come, one right after the other, and they were demanding her attention. The perspiration did now bead up on her lip and brow, as she barely had time to recover from one onslaught of pain, before she was racked with another. Her heavy panting was interlaced with moans, as her muscles convulsed and pushed, and she closed her eyes and gritted her teeth to get through this.

Hannibal was starting to get a little stressed now, not liking to see his wife in such pain. But he held her hand tightly and continued to whisper endearments and encouragements to her. Tricia sat on her other side and held that hand while bathing her brow with a cool cloth, despite the cold temperatures outside.

David and Nancy were all business and focused on the coming event.

“Almost there, Miranda,” David assured her. “A couple more pushes ought to do it.”

“I know,” Miranda panted, and then she groaned again, as her whole body contracted and pushed down.

It was a long, strong contraction this time, and Randa thought she was going pass out from lack of oxygen by the time the spasm allowed her to breathe again. She lay back on the pillows, panting and trying to regain her strength for the next onslaught. 

“Here it is!” David announced, as Nancy moved in with a warm wet cloth and a towel.

“What!?” Miranda was shocked. “I didn't feel anything different. Are you sure?”

“It looks like a baby to me,” David assured her, as he busied himself with his job. “I suppose I could be mistaken. We can always send her back...”

Tiny whimpering sounds came from the vicinity of Miranda's knees, while Nancy completed the hasty clean up. Miranda and Hannibal gaped at each other and then both broke out in almost hysterical laughter.

“It's a girl?” Randa asked, once she got her breath back.

“Yes,” David nodded. “You have a beautiful, healthy girl.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Miranda exclaimed, then placed a consoling hand on her husband's arm. “I'm sorry, Hannibal; I know you were hoping for a son.”

“Oh, no!” Heyes eyes were alight with excitement. “I don't mind. I don't mind another girl.”

Nancy moved in and placed the newborn on Miranda's tummy, and both parents were instantly mesmerized. Heyes was giggling again. He couldn't believe it; there she was, all pinched and red and squishy looking, but, oh, so beautiful. The infant whimpered as tiny clenched fists beat a gentle tattoo against her mother's breast, and Miranda felt an instant desire to try and nurse.

That is, of course, until another contraction grabbed hold of her. She gasped, more in surprise than in pain and sent David an accusing look.

“I thought we were done with the contractions!” She complained.

“Sometimes it takes a while for the body to realize that the job is done,” David informed her, then he smiled. “On the other hand. Hannibal, how would you like to hold your daughter for a few minutes?”

“Oh,” Heyes was taken aback. “Well, alright.”

He exchanged questioning looks with his wife but did as instructed. He stood up and gently lifted his new daughter up off her mother's tummy and cradled her in his arms. He sat back down again to immerse himself in her. Until Miranda tensed again, and her whole body convulsed. Tricia held her hand and tried to sooth her, but the new mother wasn't interested in any platitudes.

“David!” She complained. “What's going on?”

“It's alright, Miranda,” David assured her. “We're just not done yet.”

Miranda lay back on the pillows, panting, but she still found the energy to send her cousin's husband an incredulous look.

“What!?” She demanded.

“What!?” Heyes was right behind her.

David smiled cheekily. “Looks like baby number two is ready to join the family.”

Miranda groaned loudly and closed her eyes in disbelief. Heyes looked down at his brand new daughter in total amazement and then stared, wide-eyed, over to David.

“Baby number two?”

Miranda let out another yell, more in frustration than in pain, though the pain was real enough. She hadn't been prepared for this. She was supposed to be resting comfortably now, basking in the amazing glory of their new child. Yet here she was, her body being racked with even more contractions. This was too much!

“Oh, my God!” Miranda complained, as she pushed down hard. “This is what I get for marrying an over-achiever!”

“What?” Heyes was stupefied. “But....”

“Here it comes,” David interrupted the banter. “One more push should do it.”

“That's what you said the last time!” Randa accused, as her muscles betrayed her, and she pushed down yet again.

Then, finally, blessed relief as the second squirming bundle came into the world. Miranda collapsed back onto her pillow, as a loud yell of protest came from the new infant. David and Nancy once again jumped to their duty, and the wailing newborn was cleaned up, wrapped loosely in a swaddling blanket and placed on the mother's chest.

“Looks like you got your wish, Hannibal,” David informed him. “You have a son.”

Heyes gaped at him in shock. David smiled. Miranda shifted a little and brought her hands up to gently caress the protesting baby on her chest.

“Shhh,” she soothed him. “Don't cry. Everything's going to be alright.”

She put the boy to her breast, but he didn't seem interested just yet; he was too busy yelling his protests to the world, just on principle.

Heyes looked down at the girl settled quietly in his arms. She squirmed a little and yawned and then seemed quite content just to be held safe.

Tricia shook her head in amusement, at what she knew her cousin was going to be facing, raising twins. She gave Randa a pat on the arm and stood up for a stretch.

“Well, I think I better get out there and let everyone know the news.

Xxx

All eyes turned to the bedroom door as it opened, and Tricia stepped out. She smiled to put everyone at their ease.

“It's a girl,” she informed them, teasingly.

Everyone laughed and threw up their arms.

“Another girl!” Belle seemed pleased. “There you are Sally; you have a baby sister.”

Sally shrugged. “Yes, but she's not going to be the problem,” she stated wisely. “It's my baby brother who is going to be a handful.”

Everyone at the table looked at her and then sent the question to Tricia. The doctor's wife smiled and nodded.

“They also had a boy,” she admitted.

“What!?” Jed was flabbergasted.

Tricia nodded as she headed over to pour herself a cup of tea.

“Yes,” she concurred. “Twins. A boy and a girl. And Sally is right. Do you hear that wailing in there? That's the boy.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Jesse couldn't help the smile. “It's a good thing he's used to being in charge of a gang of unruly outlaws, because he is going to need all the skills he can muster to handle this little life changing event.”

Jed was up and pacing. 

“Can I go in?” He asked. “Heyes must be going nuts.”

“Not yet, Jed,” Tricia told him as she sat down with her tea. “Give them a few minutes to settle. The babies need some time to be with their parents.”

“Oh yeah,” Jed agreed, remembering back to those precious moments right after T.J. had been born.

Remembering that, though, didn't help him to settle down. He had wanted Heyes in there to meet his new son, wanted him to be a part of this great new experience, and now, he felt a little shunned. Didn’t Heyes want him in there? Had taking his cousin aside, and lecturing him, been too much? Was Heyes mad at him? All these questions and doubts raced through his mind, as he continued to pace and walk around the kitchen. The rest of the group talked and speculated on what changes were going to come to the Heyes family now, while Sally continued to draw quietly, at her place at the kitchen table.

Twenty minutes later, Nancy emerged from the bedroom with an armful of soiled linen and Belle instantly got up to assist her with the load of laundry. Nancy smiled at the anxious new uncle and held the door open for him.

“It seems that your presence is required,” she told him, then whispered sagely, “I think the new father is in a bit of shock.”

Jed smiled, relief washing over him. “Yeah, I bet.”

Xxx

“You knew, didn't you?” Heyes accused the doctor, as Jed entered the room and closed the door. “You're too good a doctor not to have known. You must have known.”

David innocently looked over to the shell-shocked father. Miranda had drifted off into an exhausted sleep, and David was willing to let her be for now. The newborns would need to nurse soon to get the colostrum, but they'd let it be known, when they were ready.

“Well, maybe not 'known',” David admitted. “But, I suspected.”

“Why didn't you say something? A head's up or something—anything!”

David sat back down and ran his hands through his hair. He was tired too, but his job wasn't done yet.

“I didn't want to ruin the surprise,” he admitted.

“Surprise!?”

“Or give you false hopes.”

“Hopes!?” Heyes complained. “More like a warning!”

Jed leaned back against the door, and folded his arms. A soft smiled played about his lips, as he watched his usually confident cousin have a meltdown.

“Well, I couldn't be sure,” David told him. “Even if there is a second heartbeat, it's often just an echo of the one. I didn't want to get you and Miranda all excited about twins, then just have one baby put in an appearance. That would have been cruel.”

“Cruel!?” Heyes expostulated. “I don't know how to handle this. I was worried about having one baby—but two! I don't know if I can do this.”

David smiled. Hannibal could be so insecure sometimes.

“You'll both do fine,” he assured his friend. “You and Miranda are great parents. Sally has adjusted very well here with you; she a happy child. If I'd had any doubts about your ability to deal with twins, I would have made other arrangements.”

“Other arrangements?” Heyes asked, suddenly cautious.

“Yes,” David continued innocently. “There are always families looking to adopt an infant. I'm sure your friend, Sister Julia, would have been quite willing to take one of them off your hands. We can still do that, if you want. You could always flip a coin as to which one.” He glanced over to the sleeping mother. “I'm sure Miranda would be understanding.”

“What about Harry and Isabelle?” Jed asked innocently. “I'm sure they'd love to have a ready-made family. And, come to think of it, Heyes; you and Harry are pretty close in colouring 'en all—they wouldn't even have to tell the young'un that he or she was adopted. And ya’ know what? Come ta’ think ‘a it, I bet ya’ Harry would just love ta’ take the boy. That way, you could hold onto your streak of havin’ girls. This could work!”

Throughout this monologue, Heyes' expression moved from incredulous to absolute horror, as his embrace tightened instinctively around his two infants.

“Are you mad? Harry and Isabelle raising one of my children? And the alternative is no better! You know what my childhood was like in that orphanage! How could you even suggest that I....”? Heyes stopped in mid complaint when he finally noticed the smile on David's face. “Jeez.” He breathed more with relief than anger. “And you call me a conman. You do that to me, over and over, and I fall for it, every time.” 

David and Jed exchanged a smile and then the doctor reached over and gave the flustered father a pat on the knee. “You just needed someone to bring you out of your shock. I figured it would be a safe bet. Although, it would have been quite entertaining, seeing you try to get that one past your wife.”

Heyes laughed quietly, as he cuddled his two babies. Even the boy had quieted down and was sleeping. The father looked down at them, and a smile of pure delight crossed over his tired face.

“They are pretty special, aren't they?”

“Yes,” David agreed.

Xxx

Ten minutes later, David stepped out of the bedroom and smiled over at the group.

“Everyone is fine,” he assured them all. “Tired, but fine. Sally. You can come in now, if you like.”

Sally nodded, and tried to remain casual, but once she crossed the threshold of the bedroom, she scooted around her Uncle Jed, ran passed her father and crawled up on the bed, to cuddle with her mother.

Randa instantly woke up when her oldest child wrapped her arms around her neck. The exhausted mother smiled and held her daughter close. No words were passed between them, but Sally kissed her mother on the cheek, and they both settled in for some quiet bonding.

Hannibal was still sitting in the arm chair, with both his newborns cradled in the crook of each arm. Both of them had had the chance to nurse and now, content with full tummies, they peacefully slept. Hannibal was feeling anything but peaceful. The look he sent to his cousin was one of total bewilderment.

Jed grinned, but couldn’t help the impulse to needle his cousin some more. He didn’t very often have Hannibal at a disadvantage, and he wasn’t about to relinquish the position too quickly.

“Ya' just had to do it, didn't ya' Heyes?” He scolded his cousin, as he closed the bedroom door after Sally’s exuberant entrance. “Ya' always gotta be one up, on everyone else—always gotta be one better! Not only havin’ ‘em arrive on your birthday, but twins! I tell ya’, Heyes, one of these days, you’re gonna push it too far.”

“What? But...no Kid! This isn't my fault!”

“Well, if'n it ain't your fault, I sure don't know whose it is!” Jed threw back at him. “It sure ain't my fault!”

But then, seeing the look of shear panic coming back at him, Jed took pity on his cousin, and he couldn't help but grin. He pulled up another chair and, just as Heyes had done with Jed's newborn, he sat down facing the new father and took a closer look at the next generation. He moved away a little of the blankets on each bundle and ran a gentle hand along two different cheeks. His blue eyes sparkled, as he looked back up at his cousin.

“look'it that,” he said quietly. “Two picture perfect copies of you and Randa. Who'd a' thought?”

Heyes breathed a nervous smile. He glanced over to Randa to find that she had fallen asleep again, but his daughter's brown eyes were watching him intently. He smiled at her, and Sally smiled back.

“You were right, Sweetheart,” he said quietly. “You told us, you wouldn't have to choose, and you were right.”

Sally shrugged. “I know. You and Mama just don't listen to me, sometimes.”

Heyes chuckled and exchanged a smile with his cousin. 

“You're right,” he admitted again. “It's just that, sometimes, the things you say, don't make sense to us lesser folks. Not until later.”

“Do you want me to stop saying them?” Sally asked, quite seriously.

“No,” Heyes assured her, adamantly. “You keep on saying what you think. It'll be up to me and your ma to try and keep up with you.”

Sally smiled and giggled as she moved closer in to snuggle with her mother. Hannibal gave a mock imitation of the childish giggle and sent it right back to her. 

She sent him a mild frown. “You're teasing me,” she accused him.

“Yes,” Hannibal conceded, “but I'm your father, so I have that right. Besides, your Uncle Jed is getting too old for teasing, so it has to go somewhere. As the eldest child in this family, it now falls on you.”

Sally rolled her eyes at her father's antics and nestling closer to her mother. She closed her eyes and settled in.

“Don't you want to come here and meet your brother and sister?” Heyes asked her.

Sally opened her eyes to slits. “No,” she said. “I'll meet them tomorrow, when they're actual babies. Right now, they don't know who they are.”

“Oh.” Heyes smiled. 

Jed just rolled his eyes and chuckled. It was gonna be real interestin' watchin' this brood grow up.

“So, have ya' got names for 'em yet?” Jed asked. “I’m thinkin’, ya' might be one handle short here.”

“Oh, yeah. I mean we did chose names for either a boy or a girl, so I guess we're good for both, in that sense,” he then raised his brows with a heavy sigh. “It's with everything else we might have a problem with. We were only expecting one.”

“I wouldn't worry about that,” Jed assured him. “Once word gets around the town that you folks had twins, you're gonna run outa room for all the stuff that'll be windin’ up on your front porch.”

“Yeah, you're probably right about that,” Heyes conceded. “It's kinda' nice, ain't it, Kid?”

Jed sent him the question.

“You know,” Heyes continued. “being part of a community. Knowing that if you come onto hard times or something—ha!—unexpected, that people are going to be there to help you out.”

Jed smiled and cupped the little girl's face in his hand.

“Yeah, Heyes, it is nice.”

“Yeah. Who would have thought? Kenny's going to get a real kick out of this.”

Jed snorted. “Yeah. Looks like ya’ caught up with him, real quick.”

“Yeah, but at least Kenny and Sarah did it one at a time!” Heyes pointed out. “Aww Kid, twins! I wasn't prepared for this.”

“You never are!” Jed pointed out. “You always manage to take on more than you intend, yet you always seem to come out on top. You'll do fine.”

“Yeah. That's kind of what David said too.”

“Yep.”

“Oh! Names.”

Jed smiled. “Uh huh.”

“Well, since my mother's name is already taken we went with Miranda's mother; Lillian Jennifer.”

“Oh yeah,” Jed nodded. “That's pretty.”

“Yeah,” Then Heyes became thoughtful and gave his son a little squeeze. “I was kind of torn here for the boy. I made a bit of a promise, a while back, that I want to keep. But when Miranda was so big, about three weeks ago, and that bright, full moon was hanging out there, on that cold, clear, night, I said her belly reminded me of the Hunter's moon. I thought about all the times that a full bright moon had saved our hides, and shown us a way out, just when we thought there was no way out.”

Jed nodded solemnly, himself, now, remembering back to some of those close calls.

“So, I thought 'Hunter' would be a good name for him,” Heyes continued. “But I also wanted to keep my promise, even if I'm the only one who knew about it. So... Hunter will be his nick-name, if it sticks, but officially, his name is going to be Walter. Walter Ellstrom Heyes.”

Jed chuckled. “That's quite a handle,” he commented. “Looks like both our son's will have more than their share of names to go around. Kinda' fittin', ain't it? Still, I think your friend would be pleased, Heyes. That's a real nice honour.”

“I donno,” Heyes sounded dubious. “I can almost hear him, telling me what a damn sentimental fool I've grown into. But that's okay. Underneath, I think he'd be pleased.”

Xxx 

The following morning, Hannibal stepped out onto their front porch to tend to morning chores, when he almost tripped over a mountain of boxes and loose items that were piled upon the landing. He straightened himself, and stood gaping at the gifts, through the early morning light. He turned, to go back into the house, but then stopped as he remembered that Randa was still asleep and he really didn’t want to wake her up.

He was tickled pink and blue with the realization that their neighbours had all come to their rescue, so quickly. There was another small crib and a bassinette! A second dresser, filled with more baby clothes of various sizes. And there was a second baby carriage over beside the dresser. More blankets, and toys, and piles upon piles of nappies. His grin was beyond compare, and he started to laugh out loud, as he bounced his way down the steps. He’d get the horses fed and watered, quickly, and then figure out where he was going to put everything.

Xxx

The decision to leave the little house in town, and move into a larger abode, had come about a few months after the twins were born. It was obvious that their current residence would soon be bursting at the seams. While the twins were still infants, they slept in their bassinets at the foot of their parents’ bed, but soon, even this arrangement became insufficient. One would start to cry, and so the other would join in, and then both would demand feeding.

Of course, Walter would insist on first dibs, and Lily would whimper and fuss until it was her turn. Miranda tried feeding both at the same time, but even this proved to be awkward. Walter would persist in pushing his sister away, and he would grumble and complain between mouthfuls, until he had his mother's full attention again.

They tried using formula for Lily, so that while Miranda fed the boy, Hannibal could take over feeding the girl. This worked to some degree, but even sweet Lily began to protest that she preferred mother's milk. Alternating them didn't work either, because Hunter definitely preferred mother's milk and the complaining would begin anew. David showed Miranda how to fill a bottle with her own milk, and this helped for the feedings when Hannibal was there to assist. But when Heyes was away, Miranda was left with the same problem. Sally tried to help, by bottle feeding one of the infants, but again, she was often away at school, and not there, to help out.

Next, they tried keeping Walter in the bassinet in the parent's room and moving Lily in with her sister, in the hopes that if one started to fuss, it wouldn't awaken the other. Sally was quite willing to quietly let her mother know if Lily awoke her in the night, wanting a snack. Unfortunately, the protests that abounded from all three children at this move became unbearable. Even Sally's patience was pushed beyond the limit, as the twins were both inconsolable at the enforced separation, and no one in the household got any sleep. 

After that, they thought to move the twins in with Sally, but Miranda didn't like the idea of having both babies away from her. And what difference would that make? The infants would only wake Sally up as well, with their competitive wailing. On top of that, Sally protested that her personal space would be violated with both twins in there with her. Having to share with her sister was one thing, but having her brother in there was well, was just one step too far. On top of that, she would have nowhere to go that was her's. She wasn't a toddler anymore, for goodness sakes, she required her own room!

Hannibal would shake his head and remember having to share his sleeping space with ten other boys. Having your own room was what dreams were made of. Still, he could not deny the wear and tear the cramped home was having on the growing family, and making the move into something bigger, might be the only solution.

The whole thing came to a head when Hannibal was walking home from turning Karma out in the pasture, to find his wife sitting on the steps of the porch, crying her eyes out. Fear clutched his heart as he ran to her, and lifting her to her feet, he tried to take her in his arms. She fought against him and pushed him away.

“Randa, what's wrong?” Hannibal took her arms, as she turned away from him, her other hand trying to wipe away burning tears. “Are the children alright?”

“Yes!” Randa shouted at him. “They're fine!”

“What's wrong?” A thought struck him that shamed him later, with the fear that it brought. “Are you... you know..?”

“WHAT!?”

Heyes cringed. “Pregnant?”

“Oh, thank goodness—NO!” Randa wailed. “I can't even handle the three we have!”

Heyes frowned, but he attempted his seduction again, and this time, succeeded at bringing his wife into his arms. He felt her tense muscles relax, as she succumbed to him, and her tears intensified as she cried into his shoulder. They stood together like that for a few moments while Hannibal rubbed her back and whispered soft assurances into her ear. Finally, the sobbing started to settle and Randa gulped and tried to wipe her eyes.

“Your going to hate me,” she mumbled through the tears. “You're going to be so disappointed in me. I'm disappointed in me! Why can't I do this? Other women can do this? Why can't I?”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”

“THIS!” Randa pushed away from him and waved her arms about to indicate the whole house and yard. “I can't believe I'm saying this, because I love our children so much, but sometimes I wish we had just stayed with one! Sally was so much fun! It got me thinking that I could do this—that I could be a mother! Having a baby would be wonderful, especially one created between us. I could do that; I could handle this! BUT THEN TWO SHOWED UP and I'm at my wits end! I should have known better! I saw what David and Trish were going through, I saw other new parents with their children, and thought 'Oh, thank goodness, that isn't me!'. But then—I love you so much, I was seduced into thinking that a child with you would be wonderful, and Sally was so much fun; a new baby would just be more fun!  
“But I can't do this, Hannibal! And I hate myself for it. Tricia has two and is managing! Bridget has two and still finds time to assist her husband AND entertain! And the Johnston's—oh my goodness! They have FIVE! Oh you must be so disappointed in me. I'm just not as strong as these ranching women—I'm city bred and I can't do this. I'm so sorry. I love you so much, and I've let you down!”

Here the sobbing came on full force again, and Hannibal brought her in close and gently rocked her, as he whispered assurances once more.

“I'm not disappointed,” he told her. “and nor are you weak. You forget that Bridget has a live-in maid and nanny. Sylvie does so much to take the strain off Bridget, so it's no wonder that she has the time and energy to help Steven. And don't sell yourself short. I admit, that many of the women around here were born and bred on these ranches, and they grew up on hard work. Some people thrive on that and do well, but goodness knows, I'm not one of them.  
“There's no shame in that, we just deal with these things as we can. And I assure you, I'm far from disappointed in you, and you have not let me down. In fact, I'm relieved.”

“Relieved?” came through the sniffles.

“Yes,” Heyes confirmed. “This has been hard for me, too. I agree, just Sally on her own was fun. She was older when she came to us and it was almost like having a little adult living in the house.”

“Yes,” Miranda nodded and gulped again.

“Come on,” Heyes suggested. “Let's sit up on the swing, on the porch. That's what it's there for, after all.”

Miranda nodded and with their arms still around each other, they moved up to the comfort of the swing.

“Where are the children, by the way?” Heyes asked, looking around and suddenly concerned at the quietness of the household.

“I sent them over to Nancy's.”

“Oh, good.”

They settled in, and Miranda finally stopped crying enough for her to pull out her hanky to dab at her eyes and blow her nose.

“Like I said,” Hannibal continued. “this has been hard on me too. I was anxious about having just one baby. Then two show up, and the wind got knocked out of me. Kid was always the one who wanted children, wanted to marry and settle down with something to call his own. I donno. I had the wanderlust and just assumed that I would never be able to lite anywhere for long.  
“Jed said, that it was probably because I hadn't found anything worth settling down for, and I guess, in a lot of ways, he was right. Or maybe it was just the timing. But I knew, as soon as I met you, that you were someone I might be willing to settle down for. I loved Abi too, and Allie. But the timing with them wasn't right. Allie and I were both too young, and didn't know what we really wanted. Then that second attempt with Abi, well, I suppose, we had both grown up too much, and we realized that the games we played with each other wouldn’t hold up to long term happiness.  
“You were the right person at the right time, Randa. It just took me a while to figure it out. I didn't settle down because of you; you just came along when I was finally ready to settle down. But even at that, it has been a difficult adjustment. Having to deal with Duncan and that sorry excuse for an outlaw band, really brought home to me just how much of an adjustment I needed to make.  
“It wasn't just me and the Kid anymore. All of a sudden, we both had other priorities, other responsibilities. I don't begrudge them. I don't see you and our children as anchors, dragging me down, but more as a reason for me to change and to start thinking beyond just what was good for me.  
“It's been hard; I won't deny it. I was scared to death of parenthood, as it was, now it turns out to be even more daunting than my wildest imaginings. I'm scared all the time, that something is going to happen to them, then turn around and resent the fact that the twins are keeping me awake. I come home from a late night monitoring the games at the saloon, and I feel frustrated that the lights are on and the house is in turmoil, because one or the other, or both of the twins are colicky.  
“Then I feel guilty, because I know you've been at home with them all day, and they've probably been fussing all day. I know you're tired too, and you didn't sign on for twins, either. Then on top of that, Sally's being kept awake too, so she's tired and whining, and instead of helping you, she's wearing you down even more. So I don't say anything. I try to help you get the children settled, but just feel like I'm getting in your way. But if I leave you to it and go eat the supper you've set aside for me, I feel guilty that I've abandoned you to the forces of nature.”

Miranda sighed and cuddled in against her husband's shoulder. She sniffled and dabbed the hanky against her nose.

“We're a fine pair,” she commented quietly. “You'd come home late from the job, and I'd feel guilty that the place was a mess and the children not cooperating. I knew you'd be tired and just want to eat your supper in peace and then come to bed. So there we were; both of us feeling guilty, and neither saying anything, so as not to burden the other.” She sighed deeply. “What are we going to do with ourselves?”

“We could always take Jed's advice, and give Walter to Harry and Isabelle,” Heyes suggested.

He got the desired result when Randa chuckled through her puffy eyes and slapped him on the arm. “Don't be an ass,” she told him bluntly. “Lily would never forgive us.”

“Hmm, good point.”

“But seriously, Hannibal, I don't think, I can do this. Today was a madhouse. Both twins are colicky, and nothing David suggested worked—especially with Walter! That boy has a set of lungs on him that would awaken his namesake from the grave, cursing at us for disturbing his rest.”

“Ha. I'm beginning to think that Walter inherited more than Doc's name,” Heyes conjectured. “He seems to have been born with that cantankerous attitude as well.”

“And he sure was showing it today. Then, of course Lily was just as uncomfortable and didn't mind letting me know it. Then Sally came home from school, and all she could do was complain about one of the boys constantly teasing her and pulling her hair. And Mouse insisted on being underfoot and making sure that she was always right where I needed to be! I think she was just trying to help, but I'm sure I yelled at her more than once. Finally, I couldn't take anymore, I felt like I was going to explode any minute. I bundled everyone up and took them over to John and Nancy's place. Thank goodness, she was at home and willing to take them for the afternoon. I guess, she could see that I was at the end of my tether, because she assured me, I could leave them with her through the night, as well, if I needed to.  
“I don't want to leave them there all night. I miss them already! I just needed to get away from them for a while. I just needed some quiet. I love our children, but I just couldn't...”

Miranda was a risk of breaking down again, and Hannibal quickly hugged her closer and kissed her cheek.

“Shh,” he whispered, as he set the swing to gently rocking. “We'll work something out.”

“Is everything alright, Randa?”

The two parents looked out to the road to see the neighbour lady, Helen stopping and looking, with some concern, in their direction.

“Oh yes, I'm fine, Helen. Thank you.” Miranda sent her a little wave. “We're just talking.”

Helen sent an accusatory glance over to the husband. “Really?” She asked, skeptically. “I was sure, I heard you crying. You're welcome to come and stay at my place, anytime. You know that, don't you, dear?”

“Yes, yes, Helen, I know,” Miranda assured her. “But really, I'm fine. We're just talking.”

“Hmm.” An eyebrow went up. “Where are your children?”

Hannibal sighed with growing impatience, and Miranda gently squeezed his hand.

“They're just over visiting with Nancy for the afternoon,” Randa informed the nosey neighbour. “Hannibal will be going to bring them home, soon.”

“Well, any time you want to come over for a cup of tea and a chat, you know the door is always open.”

“Yes, Helen, I know. Thank you. You really are a dear.”

“Yes, well. Good afternoon, then.”

“Good afternoon.”

Helen carried on her way, and the couple sighed with relief.

“I notice, she didn't invite me over for a cup of tea,” Hannibal complained.

Miranda chuckled. “Why would she do that?” she asked. “You're the one she wants to gossip about. But, I must admit, there have been times when she has been a very good friend, and very helpful, so let's not be nasty.”

Heyes smiled. “True.”

“But, we still have this problem to sort out.”

“I don't see that we do,” Hannibal countered. “I think the solution is right in front of us.”

“And what would that be?” The exhausted mother enquired.

“Do I have to keep reminding you that we are both fairly well off?” Hannibal asked her. “Bridget has a full time, live-in nanny, so why can't you have one, too?”

“Well, that's like admitting defeat!” Miranda protested. “Throwing good money away on something that isn't a necessity.”

“Sounds to me like it is a necessity,” Heyes pointed out. “We're not all cut out to be perfect parents. I know, I'm sure not. This situation is getting hard on all of us, so if there's a solution to it, then why not go for it? Better yet, why don’t we look into adopting another girl?”

“What!?” Miranda exclaimed, thinking her husband had gone mad. “We don't have room for another person to live here. We don't even have enough room for us! And how would adopting another child help this situation?”

“I didn’t mean another child, child,” Heyes clarified. “I mean, an older girl. Perhaps one who is ready to leave the orphanage, but has no place to go. We could offer a home to her, and she would be old enough to help out with the younger children.”

Miranda considered this option. “Sally might like to have an older sister,” she mused. “But there’s still the problem of living quarters. This house is too small for so many people. And let’s not forget that we still have Mr. Brenner coming out to stay, this summer. We’re going to wind up, putting him in the hotel.”

“Then maybe it's time we thought about moving up to something bigger,” Hannibal suggested. “After all, when you bought this house, you were single and had no plans for a family to take it over. I think it's time we moved into something bigger. In the mean time, perhaps your friend, Helen. would be willing to come over in the afternoons, to help with the children. We'll pay her for her time. I have a feeling she would quite like that.”

Miranda was silent as she contemplated these suggestions. Hannibal smiled, knowing that he had her.

Xxx

The next day, Hannibal made a point of riding out to Jed and Beth’s place, to discuss their changing situation, and to get his cousin’s input on the matter.

As he rode along the now very familiar route, he was still struck by the evidence left behind, of the fire. The not too distant hills, that were once green, and thick with timber, were now stark and littered with blackened match sticks. He marveled again, at how close the fire had come to Jed and Beth’s cabin, and how lucky they were, to have escaped nature’s wrath.

His mood settled, once he had passed the burned out areas, and he, again, found himself riding through the springtime green of a healthier landscape. Coming up onto the cabin, it looked just like it had before Heyes and Miranda had left on their vacation. He smiled when he saw the peach tree in the front, just starting to blossom. Maybe, just maybe, it might produce some fruit this summer. 

There was only one variation to the place, but it was a good and positive one. The cabin had been designed to allow for expansion, even though Jed didn’t think they would be adding on to it, any time soon. A sudden influx of disposable income soon changed that. Already feeling that more room would be appreciated, Jed and Sam had begun to build the frame for a larger family room, and a third bedroom. Jed was even working out plans to add on a second floor, though he wasn’t sure if he would be doing that, right away.

It was, already, going to take a while to complete, as Sam could only help out when he could spare the time from his day job. Hannibal came out, when he could, to do his part, and his poor thumbs were suffering from the efforts. For a man who was normally so dexterous with his hands, once you gave him a hammer and some nails, he turned into a fumbling novice. 

Daisy whinnied a greeting to her mother, as Heyes and Karma approached the yard. Heyes smiled over at her, but then frowned, when he noticed that Gov wasn’t in the paddock with her. Damn. Was Jed not at home? Looking to the house, he noted that the front door was open, allowing the spring breeze to come in and freshen the little house, after being closed up all winter. He relaxed with that, reasoning that someone, at least, was at home.

Sure enough, having heard Daisy welcoming company, Beth came out onto the front porch and waved a greeting.

“Hannibal!” she said. “Good morning. What brings you out here, today?”

“I was hoping to have a word with your husband,” he told her, as he pulled up in front of the steps. “Is he at home?”

“No,” Beth informed him. “But he just went to check up on the creek. The water’s not flowing the way it should be, this time of year, and he thinks it might have gotten blocked over the winter. He shouldn’t be long. Why don’t you put Karma in the paddock, and come in for some tea?”

Heyes smiled as he dismounted. “Okay.”

Xxx

By the time Hannibal came into the kitchen, Beth had tea and biscuits set out on the table. T.J. was contentedly playing on the floor, where he, hopefully, would not be able to squirm his way into any trouble. The whole atmosphere of this home was pleasant and welcoming, and Hannibal always felt welcome and comfortable here.

Beth poured tea, and they sat down to enjoy the mid-morning respite.

“Your father was pretty stubborn, during this winter,” Hannibal stated. “Refused to take any money. Did he really not need it?”

Beth smiled at her father’s tenacity. 

“There were a few times, we could have used some extra cash,” she admitted. “But you know Papa. He wanted the ranch to carry its own weight.”

“It’s not like it would be charity,” Heyes pointed out. “That money is there for whatever is needed. We’re all partners in this endeavour. It would have made things easier, if he would have just used some of it.”

Beth shrugged. “I’m sure he would have, if things had become truly dire, but we managed. And now, we have some lovely yearlings that are ready for auction, and we have a fine crop of both calves and foals due this summer. Actually, the calving has already started. And, there are at least ten, three-year-old colts that are broke out, and ready to go. Not to mention a nice band of two-year-olds that Deke and Sam will be starting this spring. The main thing that suffered, was our timber. We’ll be very select at what we harvest this year. Thankfully, we weren’t completely wiped out, like some others were. We still have whole sections that are healthy, and doing well.”

“Good,” Heyes said. “Ah, does David think that your pa will ever be able to walk without a cane?”

“No,” Beth stated, and her smiled dropped. “David is helping him to get as much back as he can, but Papa’s lucky he can walk at all, after the injuries he suffered.” Her voice softened, and she looked down, into her teacup. “He’s lucky to be alive.”

Hannibal reached over and held her hand. “I know,” he comforted her. “After everything else that happened, that would have been the worst. Thank goodness, it didn’t.”

Beth smiled, and brightened up again. “Yes. Thank goodness.” Then her eyes twinkled as more good news came to mind. “And, on top of all that,” she said. “We’ve been getting a lot of interest from people wanting to breed their mares to Ned. That in itself, might just be enough to pull this ranch back onto its feet. Have you been thinking about breeding Karma any time soon? It would be good to insure her line.”

Heyes pursed his lips, and thought about that. “I was thinking about breeding her to a Spanish stallion that Mac owns—or, more specifically, Mac’s wife. He’s a real beauty, and I think he and Karma would make an amazing foal, together.”

“But he’s a Spanish Horse?” Beth asked, skeptically. “Not an approved Quarter Horse?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Heyes confirmed. “One breeding would hardly cause an issue. Karma would still have a lot of years left in her, as a brook mare.”

“I don’t know,” Beth hummed. “For the sake of our program, I would think, that if you are going to breed Karma, then it should be to an approved Quarter Horse. That’s the line we’re trying to build.”

Heyes smiled. “Oddly enough, that was Carlotta’s main concern as well,” he recalled. “She only wants to breed her stallion to Spanish mares, to keep the line pure.”

“Yes. I can see her point. Has she given permission?”

“No, not yet,” Heyes admitted. “But I thought, once she saw Karma, she would be in favour of it.”

“Wellll…” Beth, again, showed skepticism. “I suppose, one breeding outside the line, wouldn’t hurt, but…”

“Good!”

More whinnying from the paddock area announced the arrival of another rider. Beth’s smile instantly returned as she stood up from the table. 

“That’ll be Jed,” she announced, and hurried over to the front door.

Heyes stayed where he was, but he could hear the conversation clearly enough.

“Hello!” Beth called out from the porch. “How did it go?”

“Yeah, it’s blocked,” Jed informed her. “Kyle and I will get up there later, with some dynamite and blow it clear. I take it, Heyes is here?”

“Yes,” Beth confirmed. “We’re in the kitchen, having tea. He wants to talk with you about something.”

“Uh huh,” was Jed’s commented. “I’ll put Gov up, and come in and join ya’.”

Xxx

“Hey, Heyes,” Jed greeted his cousin, as he pulled off his gloves, and settled at the table. Beth poured him a cup of tea. “I’m gonna be seein’ ya’ in town, in a couple ‘a days. What’s so all fired important, that ya’ rode all the way out here?”

Heyes grinned. “Beth’s home-made biscuits.”

“Uh huh,” Jed commented. “Not that her biscuits ain’t worth the ride out here, but I ain’t buyin’ it. What’s up?”

“Well,” Heyes began, getting serious. “Miranda is finding things difficult.”

“That’s not surprising,” Beth commented. “I have enough, just to keep up with Thaddeus. Those twins must be a handful.”

Hannibal nodded emphatically. “It’s more than either of us bargained on. One of the things that’s making it hard, is that little house is bursting at the seams. I think we need to expand.”

“Not really room on that property ta’ add on ta’ that house,” Jed stated. “I suppose ya’ could go up, though. Put on a second floor.”

“We were thinking more of purchasing another place,” Heyes told them. “If we sold the house in town, we could put that money towards a bigger place. You see, we’re thinking of adopting an older girl. Someone who could help out with the twins. It would sure make things a lot easier on Miranda. It would also give an older girl a better opportunity than what’s usually offered. On top of that, we’ve got young Mr. Brenner coming out this summer, and two or three parolees. It’s time to make some changes.”

“Ain’t the parolees gonna stay out at the Double J?” Jed asked. “Or at the Second Chance? Why do they need to stay in town?”

“I don’t feel right about saddling Jesse with that, right now,” Heyes admitted. “Besides, the idea was that they would work for us, in town, until we felt they were reliable, and serious enough, to move out and help at the ranch.”

“Yeah, that’s true enough,” Jed concurred. “But buyin’ another house in town…I donno. Havin’ parolees stayin’ right there in the same house as Miranda and the kids, especially if’n you’re gonna adopt an older girl. Ain’t that just askin’ fer trouble? Especially if you ain’t gonna be around, all the time.”

Heyes sighed. “Yeah. I thought of that.”

“There’s somethin’ else, I’ve been thinkin’ about,” Jed admitted. 

“You’re suppose to leave the thinking to me, remember?” Heyes teased.

“Yeah, but lately, you’ve been droppin’ the ball,” Jed pointed out, with a smile. “I figure I should pick up some ‘a the slack.”

Heyes chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose you have a point there. So what have you been thinking about?”

“The Baird ranch,” Jed stated.

Heyes frowned as he pondered that suggestion.

“The Baird ranch?”

“Yeah.”

“What a good idea,” Beth agreed. “It really needs fixing up, but that could work.”

“Yeah,” Jed continued. “Maybe we could talk with Kenny about sendin’ them fellas out sooner, maybe even send a couple more. We could put ‘em ta’ work, fixing up that place. Get separate quarters built for the parolees, then get a good barn, and a real nice house put up fer you and your expandin’ family. That way, them fellas won’t be livin’ right in the same house, with ya’.” Jed was on a roll now. “There’s even livestock that comes with the place, at least whatever stock survived the winter. But the ranch could be part of the company. That’s where we can start them fellas out, until we’re sure about ‘em. That way we won’t be puttin’ anybody else’s property or livestock at risk.”

Heyes sat silently, as he digested all of what Jed had said. Jed smiled, seeing the wheels turning in his partner’s head. Beth looked back and forth, between the two them. It sounded like a great idea to her.

“Well,” Jed finally asked. “What do ya’ think?”

“I’m thinking that I should let you do the thinking, more often,” Heyes admitted. “This just might work.”

“On top ‘a that,” Jed continued. “If’n we buy the ranch with company funds, ya’ wouldn’t have ta’ sell your house. That could become the office for us, in town. You know, for administratin’ an’ all that. I gotta admit, it’s been real handy havin’ that house there. It’d be a shame ta’ see it go. “Hey! You could even adopt another older girl, to be the secretary!”

Heyes laughed. “You’re gonna eat me out of house and home, at this rate,” he commented. “How about we adopt a girl to help out with the household, and the children, and you and Beth can adopt the girl to be the secretary. How’s that?”

The three of them looked at one another, as the idea took hold and began to grow. Then they all broke out laughing at once. The Double Chance Ranch was beginning to take form. This could work.

Xxx

That evening, after the twins had been fed and put to bed, the rest of the Heyes family were seated around the kitchen table, enjoying a rare, peaceful meal. Hannibal glanced at Miranda, and she nodded agreement.

“Sally,” the father began, and Sally looked at him, expectantly. “Your mother and I have some good news for you.”

Sally perked up even more. She glanced at her mother, then turned her focus back to her father.

“What?” she asked, because, after all, even someone with her intuitiveness couldn’t know everything.

“Well,” Heyes continued. “You know, we’ve all been having a hard time, adjusting to this new family.” Sally’s brows went up, and she nodded emphatically. “So, your mother and I have been discussing a solution that I think you’ll like. We thought that we would adopt an older girl from the orphanage, maybe someone you already know, and she could come live with us and help out with the twins. How would you like to have an older sister to play with?”

Sally’s expression went from open expectation to dark disappointment. Then her face crumpled, and the tears began, even before the protests could be articulated.

“NO!” she wailed, causing both of her parents to look at each other, in surprise. “No, you can’t do that! I’m the oldest! I don’t want an older sister! I’m the oldest!” 

“But…Sweetheart,” Heyes tried to console her. “Your mother needs help with the twins.”

“I help Mama with the twins!” Sally insisted. “And I can do more! I’ll come home, right after school, every day and help out.”

“You shouldn’t have to do that,” Miranda told her. “You enjoy your time, after school, helping your teacher and playing with your friends. You already help me with supper, and with cleaning up afterward. You do so much around here, Sweetheart.”

“I don’t care!” Sally continued to protest through her tears. “I’ll help out more. I promise! I don’t want an older sister! I’m the oldest!”

Then she pushed herself away from the table and ran, sobbing, to her bedroom. The last thing the parents heard, was the slamming of the door.

Surprisingly enough, the commotion did not wake up the twins. Silence blanketed the supper table as the two parents tried to comprehend what just happened.

“Well,” Hannibal finally stated. “That’s not the reaction I was expecting.”

“Oh dear,” Miranda commented. “We certainly did judge that one wrong, didn’t we? I suppose we should have discussed it with her, before making a decision. But, I thought, she would be happy about it.” 

“Me too,” Hannibal agreed. “I guess it is kind of important, being the oldest. I never really thought about it before.”

Again, the two parents sat silently for a moment, wondering what their next step should be. Finally, Miranda pushed herself away from the table and stood up.

“I’ll go and talk with her,” she said. “Maybe I can get her to calm down, and look at this differently.”

“I’ll come with you,” Hannibal offered. “I think, I have an idea that could work.”

Miranda smiled and nodded. Anything, at this point, would be welcome.

Standing outside the bedroom, Miranda tapped on the closed door.

“Sweetheart,” she called through it. “Can we come in? We want to talk with you.”

“No!” came the heart-broken protest. “Go away.”

“Sweetheart,” Miranda continued. “We’re sorry, we upset you. We thought, you’d be happy. We should have spoken with you about it first. Please let us come in. Your papa has an idea to put this right.”

There was a moment of silence from inside the room, then the door nob turned and a red, teary eyed face challenged them at the threshold.

“What?” she asked.

“Can we come in?” Miranda requested again.

Sally pouted and thought about it, then she stepped aside and opened the door wider.

The parents stepped into the room and went over to sit down on the bed. Sally stood, with arms crossed and a stubborn look on her face.

“Come,” Miranda told her. “Come, and sit down with us.”

Sally sighed, but did relent. She came over and sat down on the bed, between her parents.

“We’re sorry, we upset you,” her papa began. “We should have discussed it with you first.”

“Yes,” Sally agreed.

“But your mother and I thought, it would be a nice surprise for you,” Hannibal continued. “We thought, you’d be happy.”

“No.”

“Yes, we can see that, now,” he admitted. “So, you don’t want an older sister.”

“No!”

“Alright. But that doesn’t change the fact that your mother needs more help around here. More help than you can give her.” Heyes didn’t want to mention that Sally was one of the reasons why Miranda needed more help. “So,” he continued. “I was thinking. We won’t adopt an older girl. We’ll hire one.”

“Hire one?” Sally asked, hope starting to gleam. 

“Yes,” he concurred. “All of us will go out to the orphanage…” Miranda rolled her eyes at that suggestion. “…and we’ll interview some of the young ladies who are now ready to leave there and start their new lives. Then, once we get moved into our larger house, she can come and move in with us as a live-in nanny. But we won’t adopt her, so you will still be the oldest. How does that sound?”

Sally sniffed and looked from one parent to the other. “She won’t be my sister?”

“No,” her father assured her. “She’ll be your nanny, and hopefully, your friend. But not your sister.”

Sally’s tear streaked face broke out into a grin. “Okay!”

Xxx

“All of us go out to the orphanage?” Miranda asked, as they lie snuggled in bed, too wrung out from the day’s events to attempt anything more. “Do you know what mayhem that could cause?”

Hannibal chuckled, as he held his wife close. “I know. But I think it’s important that we all have a say in who we hire. After all, she’s going to be living with us, and helping to raise the children. Not only that, any prospective lady has the right to see what she’ll be heading in to. Not all ladies are naturally maternal, you know.”

Miranda snorted, and slapped him on the arm. 

“Yes, alright,” she conceded. “You do have a point. But I’m sure not looking forward to it.”

“I’ll help out with the twins.”

“Yes,” Miranda agreed. “You will.”

Xxx

“Here we are, on board another train,” Miranda sighed, as they all found their seats.

“Actually, I think it’s the same train,” Hannibal commented, then smiled at the look his wife sent him.

Sally ignored her parents and excitedly sat in the window seat and stared out at the busy scene on the platform.

“It’s been a long time, since I’ve been on a train,” she stated, with great enthusiasm. “That was when we went to Denver, for the trial. Remember, Papa?”

“Yep,” her pa concurred. “I guess that is a long time ago, for you, isn’t it?”

Sally sent him a confused frown. “It was the same amount of time for you.”

“Yes, I know, Sweetheart. But, as you get older, time goes by faster. To you it seems a long time ago, but to me, it’s like it was yesterday.”

Both parents hid their smiles as the look on Sally’s face became intense with her efforts to understand that logic. Finally, she gave up on it, shrugged, and went back to staring out the window.

“Oh dear.” The mother’s attention was drawn back to one of the twins. “Please Walter, for your mother’s sake, let’s make this an easy trip.”

“Do you think he’s hungry?” Hannibal asked.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “He couldn’t be; I just fed him.”

“Yeah…” Hannibal sounded dubious.

Opening up their carry-on bag, Miranda brought out one of the many pre-filled bottles and offered it to her son. A protesting wail arose, and the infant squirmed even more. Miranda sighed and returned the bottle to the bag.

“He’s not hungry,” she deduced. “He’s just Walter being Walter.”

“Here, let me take him,” Hannibal offered. “Lily’s quite content to nap.”

The parents switched babies, and Hannibal focused his attention to keeping his son happy for the duration of the train ride to Laramie.

“We’re moving, we’re moving!” Sally suddenly announced, and jumped up in her excitement. “Look!”

“Yes, so we are,” Miranda agreed. “But I think, you should sit down before you fall down. You can still see out the window.”

To illustrate her point, the train gave a sudden lurch, and Sally was flung forward, into her mother’s lap. Lily woke up and began to cry which, in turn, set off her brother. Sally scrambled back to her seat, and sat down, looking sheepish.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I know,” Miranda assured her, as she tried to sooth the startled infant. “But stay in your seat, alright, Sweetheart? Trains can be unpredictable.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Miranda glanced around and felt embarrassed by the looks of irritation that came their way from a few of the other passengers. She smiled an apology and went back to calming the baby. Hannibal chuckled, but his mirth was drowned out by the wailing of his son.

Xxx

Heyes had never been so relieved to arrive in the town of Laramie. Being the supreme leader of the rowdiest bunch of outlaws in the West, had done nothing to prepare him for the patience and ingenuity required of parenthood. What with trying to keep the volume down on his son’s complaining, numerous feedings and trips to the privy to change nappies, both parents were worn out, by the time the engine pulled into the platform of their destination.

There were sighs of relief, not only from the Heyes’, but also from the other passengers of their car, as those getting off, collected their belongings and made a hasty exit. Miranda did one final check to ensure that they had everything, including all three of their dependants, and followed her husband off the car. The passengers who remained on board to continue their journey, all smiled in gratitude with the blessed silence now raining down upon them.

Out on the platform, Heyes gathered his family around him.

“Everyone present and accounted for?” he asked.

“Yes,” Miranda informed him. “All I want now, is to get settled in our hotel room, and get something to eat.”

“Likewise,” Heyes concurred. “Come on. You can have a seat inside the depot, while I make arrangements for our ride.”

“Good idea,” Miranda stated. “It’s quite windy out, today.”

“It’s quite windy out, every day,” Heyes informed her. “Welcome to Wyoming.”

Miranda sighed, as she followed her husband. “Oh dear.” 

Xxx

The following morning, Heyes rented a two seater buggy to take him and his family out to the orphanage. Sally offered to sit in the second seat, and play with her siblings, so her mother and father could sit together, up front. She was trying to help out, every way that she could. She knew her mother was under strain, and she missed the fun times they used to have together. Perhaps, if she helped out more, her mother wouldn’t be so tired all the time. 

The drive out of town was pleasant enough, with a warm spring breeze adding a touch of freshness to the otherwise stark landscape. Much to Hannibal’s surprise, he felt comfortable driving along this familiar route. Even when they drove into the courtyard of the convent and orphanage, and he looked upon the structures that he had, as a convict, helped to renovate, he didn’t feel a darkness come over him. He felt light and happy and, most importantly, he felt free.

“Whoa,” he said, as he pulled the team up, close to the steps of the main building. “Here we are. Sally, would you like to show your mother up to the front alcove?”

Sally’s expression was one of excitement and expectation, as she surveyed this place that used to be her home. She nodded, enthusiastically, at her father’s suggestion, and prepared to disembark.

Miranda nimbly stepped down from the buggy. She gathered up the two infants and allowed her oldest daughter to show the way.

Hannibal stepped down and went to the head of the team, just as the old holster appeared to take hold of the bridles.

“Hello,” Heyes greeted him. “We’re here to see Sister Julia.”

“Of course ya’ are,” the elderly man agreed. “She be waitin’ on you an’ yer missus.”

“Yes, fine. Ah, give these fellas some water and hay, but no need to unharness them. I don’t think we’ll be more than a couple of hours.”

“Right you are, sir. I’ll relieve ‘em ‘a their traces, if that be okay with you, and leave ‘em tied in the shade. Not that it’s all that hot today, but a nice bit ‘a shade under the tree, while they’s eatin’ their lunch might be appreciated.”

“Yes,” Heyes agreed with a smile. “I wouldn’t mind that myself.”

The old fellow cackled a laugh, showing off some dark spaces in his mouth, where teeth used to be. He untied the lead shank on the near horse’s harness and clucked to the pair of them.

“C’mon, my beauties. Let’s get ya’ settled in.”

The horses already had this figured out, and were a step ahead of their handler as they set off in the direction of the stables.

Heyes waited until the buggy had gone past him and then walked across the lane and up the steps of the main building. The front lobby hadn’t changed much, since the last time he stood upon that floor. The wood was still old and stained, and creaked when walked upon, but just like the worn carpet, it was clean and had just been freshly waxed. More cherished pieces of artwork, all rendered with a child’s hand, were hung upon the walls for visitors to admire, as they sat and waited in comfortable armchairs. 

Hannibal stopped and surveyed his surroundings. He took in a deep breath of the familiar aromas in this room, and then smiled at Sally, as she proudly explained the interior to her mother.

“These are the drawings that we do in art class,” she pointed out. “That one of the creek is good. Oh, and here’s some of the pebbles from the creek. And here’s some of those dried flowers from the garden. I wonder if they’re the same ones that were here before…”

“Joshua, Miranda! And Sally. How wonderful to see you all.”

Everyone turned at the sound of the familiar greeting.

“Sister Julia,” Heyes smiled and went over to give her a kiss.

“Hello Sister,” Miranda said, as she shifted the weight of the twins on her hips. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she told them, with the usual spark in her eyes. “And Sally! My what a big girl you are. All that fresh air has been good for you.”

Sally beamed with pleasure.

“Yes ma’am,” she agreed. “And I’m an older sister, now. See? I have a brother and a sister.”

“Yes, I can see that. Come, Miranda. All of you, come into the parlour. Sister Marilyn is making us tea.”

“Sister Marilyn?” Heyes asked. “Is that the same young lady who helped you out at the prison?”

“Yes,” Sister Julia confirmed. “The same young lady who had quite the crush on you.”

“Oh, Hannibal,” Miranda teased him. “Don’t tell me you even flirted with the young Sisters.”

“But, she wasn’t a Sister then,” her husband protested. “It was just…”

“Never mind, Joshua,” Julia assured him, as she showed them over to some comfortable armchairs. “The experience was very good for her.”

Miranda didn’t say anything, but Hannibal could feel her laughing at him. He smiled back at her and gave up any pretense of protesting.

“Here, let me take Walter,” he offered again, so that his wife could settle.

“Thank you.”

“Sally, dear?”

“Yes, Sister?”

“Would you like to go down to the schoolroom and say hello to some of your friends?” she asked the child. “They are expecting you and would love to hear about your new life in Colorado.”

“Oh yes! Umm,” she glanced at her mother. “That is, if you don’t need me to help.”

“I think we can manage for a little while, without you,” Miranda said. “Go ahead.”

The child’s face broke into a wide grin, and she jumped from her chair, and ran down the familiar hallway, towards the back of the building.

“Oh dear,” Sister Julia observed. “She never did learn how to walk instead of run.”

“I’m afraid we’re to blame for that, Sister,” Heyes told her. “We expect manners, but we also encourage her to express herself. And she does.”

“I’m sure,” the Sister agreed and then smiled over at Miranda. “Twins. My goodness. Now that was a surprise.”

Both Hannibal and Miranda laughed out loud. 

“You’re right about that,” Heyes told her. “I think, I was in shock for over a week.”

“It was unexpected,” Miranda concurred. “And now, I’m afraid it’s a bit overwhelming.”

“I’m sure it is,” Sister Julia stated, then held out her arms towards Lily. “May I?”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Miranda agreed, and handed the infant over to her. “She is a darling. If we could have stopped at her, I could probably handle it. But, Walter. Oh, he’s another story.”

Sister Julia smiled at Hannibal, over the choice of his son’s name, then glanced at the snoozing infant, nestled in his father’s arms.

“He seems quite content now,” she observed.

“Hannibal has a way with him,” Miranda confessed. “He’s his father’s son, in more ways than one.

Sister Marilyn, along with another young novice arrived in the parlour and set the tea service, and some biscuits, down on the low, center table.

“Thank you,” Sister Julia said. “Sister Marilyn, you remember Mr. Heyes, your patient out at the prison?”

“Yes, of course,” Marilyn smiled shyly. “How are your shoulders?”

Heyes stood up to gently take her hand in greeting.

“Oh,” he said, somewhat surprised. “You remember that, do you?”

“Oh, yes sir,” Marilyn admitted. “I’ve never felt anything quite so…fascinating.”

“Really?” Miranda asked, a raised eyebrow teasing her husband. “Fascinating?”

“The knots in my shoulders,” Heyes explained. “David decided to give everyone in the infirmary a demonstration on easing muscle strain. I was the guinea pig.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Sister Marilyn, this is my wife, Miranda.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Marilyn said, as she did a little courtesy. “I hope, I didn’t offend. But it was very…fascinating.”

“No, that’s alright,” Randa assured her. “I’m quite accustomed to my husband’s shenanigans.”

“Oh. Yes, ma’am.”

“This is Kathryn,” Sister Julia introduced the second young lady. “She came to us last year, and now, she thinks, she would like to stay.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Kathryn,” Heyes greeted her. “You couldn’t have landed in a better place than here.”

“Yes, sir. I know. Thank you.”

“Kathryn,” Miranda joined in. “Nice to meet you.”

“Ma’am.”

“Now,” Sister Julia announced, as she came to her feet with Lily still cradled comfortably in her arm. But then, she did something most unexpected, and handed the infant over to Sister Marilyn. “If you and Miss Kathryn would please take the children and entertain them in the other room, for a while.”

Miranda stood up, in some alarm. 

“No…but…that won’t be necessary,” she insisted, and made a move to take her daughter back.

Sister Julia deftly stepped in between them, blocking the mother, and then held out her arms to also take Walter.

“Uhmm,” Heyes hesitated. “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure they will stay quiet, while we talk.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Joshua,” Sister Julia scolded him, as she took Walter from him, and handed the child over to Kathryn. “They’ll just be in the next room. Now, off you young ladies go. I’ll call you when we’re ready.”

Hannibal and Miranda stood, dumbfounded, not sure what they should do, as they watched their two infants disappearing down the hallway.

“Umm,” Heyes repeated. “I’m not sure that…”

“Joshua,” Sister Julia confronted him. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Yes, Sister. Of course I do.”

“Then relax. Come. Sit back down and have some tea. Miranda, don’t worry. Your children are fine. Sit down now, so we can discuss things without interruption.”

“Oh, well…” Miranda looked to her husband for assurance.

Hannibal sighed and then nodded. “It’s alright. They’ll be fine.”

“Well…okay.”

The couple sat down again, and Sister Julia poured their tea. “Biscuit?”

“Oh,” Miranda accepted the offering. “Yes, thank you.”

“Joshua?”

“Thank you.”

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled,” the Sister announced with satisfaction. She sat down and took a sip from her own teacup. “I must admit, that your most recent telegram did not come as a surprise.”

“Didn’t it?” Heyes asked.

“No.” The Sister smiled, as she took note of Miranda’s crestfallen posture. She reached over and touched the troubled mother’s hand, and the dark, stressed eyes looked up to connect with the kindly, crinkled ones. “Don’t feel guilty, my dear. It is a lot to take on.”

“I know,” Miranda conceded, “but others seem to manage.”

“Yes,” Sister Julia agreed, “but usually it is out of stubbornness, and then it is the children who pay the price. I have a feeling that little Walter is more than just a handful.”

Both parents laughed.

“That’s for sure,” Heyes agreed. “This situation took us both by surprise.”

“Sally is easy to be with,” Miranda stated. “But the twins; my goodness! And now, I feel guilty just saying that. I really do love them, but I’m at my wits end.”

“Well,” Sister Julia stated. “I think that you have made the right decision. I already have a young lady in mind, who will fit your needs. She is fifteen, and finishing up her final year with us. This is often a hard time for the young ladies. Work is not available to them, as it is to the young men, so they end up marrying someone twice their age, just to have security, or they take their vows and join the church. Often, neither choice is the right one for them. This is a wonderful opportunity that you are offering. I hope, you will be pleased with her.”

“Oh good!” Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. “I was wondering how we would go about this. Shall we bring her in, so we can discuss it? I did make up a list of questions.”

Sister Julia smiled, wisely. “I think, I have a better idea. Come along.”

Hannibal and Miranda exchanged glances, but stood up and obediently followed the Sister. She led them down the familiar hallway that would take them to the classroom, but she stopped short of that door, and turned to open another. She did so quietly, and indicated for the couple to also enter the room in such a manner as to not disturb the occupants. 

“This is where the children can come, when morning classes are finished,” Sister Julia whispered. “Come. Let us stand over here, out of the way, and watch them for a moment.”

There were a number of children in the room, ranging in ages from six or seven, up to mid-teens. Some were still sitting at the small table, eating their lunches, while others were occupying themselves with reading, or drawing, or playing with toys on the floor. 

Sally was busy catching up on news with friends who were still living at the orphanage, and didn’t even notice her parents coming into the room. Sister Marilyn was sitting at the table, playing with Lily, while another girl was laid out on the floor, with Walter squirming all over her. The room was filled with the girl’s excited laughter, while Walter’s mouth was gaping in a huge grin, as he gurgled and spit with delight. He had rolled himself over onto his stomach, and his little hands and feet were slapping and kicking at the floor, as he tried to keep up with his new playmate.

“I thought so,” Sister Julia commented, wisely. “River, could you come over here, please?”

The girl looked up from her play, and nodded. But then, she hesitated, not wanting to leave the infant unattended.

Sister Julia spotted Kathryn, and motioned to her. “Would you please attend to the boy, for a few moments. Please.”

The frown on Kathryn’s face was unmistakable, but she did as she was bidden, and went over to take charge. But as soon as River stood up and began to walk away, Walter’s little face went from laughing, to tight frustration, and the all too familiar wailing commenced. Kathryn picked up the infant and tried to sooth him, but it only caused his wails to increase in volume, and the look on Kathryn’s face, said it all. 

“Oh dear,” Miranda stated, and couldn’t help but smile. “Poor Kathryn; that is exactly how I feel much of the time.”

River was about to return to Walter, to help sooth him, but Sister Julia stopped her.

“No, no, child. Come here,” the Sister insisted. “He’ll be fine. Come with us.”

River frowned, but followed the adults out of the room and back down to the parlour.

“Sit down, child,” Sister Julia invited her. “You remember Sally, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Yes. I seem to recall that the two of you got along very well. Despite your difference in ages.”

“Yes, ma’am,” River confirmed. “She was very helpful, when I first came here. She seemed to know how scared I was. I thought we would be friends. But then she got adopted, and left. I was…disappointed to see her go.”

“It seems to me, you were more than disappointed,” the Sister recalled. “Heartbroken, would be more like it.”

River hung her head. “Yes, ma’am. But I was happy that she was adopted, and found parents of her own. I just wish…will she be staying long? I’d love to visit more with her. I got caught up with that adorable little boy, then she started talking with Melanie and some of the other girls, so…but she’s not leaving right away, is she?”

“I don’t believe that Sally will be staying very long, today,” the Sister informed her, and saw disappointment settle over River’s features. “But, in the long run, this might work out to everyone’s satisfaction.”

River perked up, her curiosity taking over from disappointment. 

“Oh?” She asked, and looked towards the two other adults who were sitting quietly, watching her.

“River,” Sister Julia began. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Heyes. They are Sally’s parents.”

“Oh!” River stood up and did a quick courtesy. “A pleasure to meet you.” And then sat back down again, before Hannibal could respond to her formal greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, as well,” he stated from his chair, and gave her a friendly smile.

River’s smile increased, and she thought, what a lovely and kind man he was. Odd. Rumour was that Sally’s new father had been a convict at the prison, just outside of town. Surely, that couldn’t have been this man; he looked so nice.

“Lovely to meet you, River,” Miranda stated, getting the girl’s attention.

“Thank you, ma’am,” she answered, and then her eyes lit up with a revelation. “Oh! Are those twins yours?”

“Yes, they are,” Miranda admitted.

“Oh, you are so lucky to have such beautiful babies!” River exclaimed, all excited. “I envy you so much. You must love them to pieces.”

“Well…” Miranda nodded, then laughed, “…yes, I do.”

The parents smiled, and exchanged glances. They both liked this girl and were beginning to think that this might not be such a difficult task, after all. She and Sally already knew one another, and got along, and obviously Walter was quite taken with her. They weren’t too worried about Lily’s response, as Lily tended to get along with everybody.

Sister Julia noted the silent exchange, and felt confident to continue on with the discussion.

“Mr. and Mrs. Heyes came here today, in hopes of meeting a young lady who was coming of age, and would be leaving here soon,” Sister Julia explained. “They wish to hire that young lady, to come and live with them in Colorado, and help raise the children, along with other household duties. Payment would be room and board, plus a small wage. Do you think, you would be interested in such a position?”

River’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. “Oh yes!” she exclaimed, and nearly jumped out of her chair, in her excitement. Realizing that this was most unladylike behaviour, she quickly controlled herself, and sat back down, folding her hands in her lap and taking on a respectable manner. “Yes. I would be honoured by such a position. I would appreciate the opportunity.”

Hannibal and Miranda smiled at each other. River was trying so hard to be a mature lady, but she was still a child at heart.

“Alright, fine,” Heyes told her. “We aren’t set up for you to come, right away. Our current home is too small, but once our ranch house has been renovated, then we will send for you. How is that?”

River looked disappointed. “Oh…”

“That would be fine,” Sister Julia interrupted. “That will give River time to finish her schooling here, and for us to teach her some other skills, that will be helpful to her, in this new position.”

“Oh, yes,” River agreed. “Of course.”

“It was very nice to meet you,” Miranda told her. “And believe me, I’m looking forward to the day when you can come and join us.”

River beamed a smile. “Yes ma’am. Me too, ma’am.”

“Very good,” Sister Julia told her. “You may return to the children, now.”

“Yes, Sister.”

River stood up and did another quick courtesy, and this time, Hannibal was ready for it, and stood up with her. He took her hand and gave her a slight bow.

“We’ll see you later in the summer,” he told her. “How’s that?”

“Yes, sir,” she responded, and with a nod to the Sister and Miranda, she quickly left the room.

She was hardly out of sight, when her walking became a run, and her excited voice could be heard as she opened the door to the playroom.

“Sally! I’m going to be coming to live with you…” And then, the shutting of the door, cut off the rest of her sentence.

Hannibal chuckled.

Miranda and Sister Julia smiled at each other.

“This will work out nicely,” the Sister stated. “River has always shown a fondness for children. She has a way with them, and can get them to settle, when no one else can.”

“She sounds like she’s exactly what I need,” Miranda said. “Thank you, Sister.”

“You’re welcome. Now, Joshua…” Hannibal became suspicious. Sister Julia always had a way of backing him into a corner. “…how are Thaddeus, and his young wife? Enjoying parenthood, are they?”

“Ahh, yes.” Again, suspicion. “Why?”

“I seem to recall him saying, that they might be interested in adopting, once they settled in to parenthood,” the Sister remarked. “Any chance…?”

Heyes laughed, mostly in relief that is wasn’t him being put on the hot seat.

“Nothing serious yet, Sister,” he told her. “Although…”

“Yes?”

“Well, we were just talking, mind you. Nothing definite,” Heyes explained. “But, once our office, in town, is up and running, we might be in need of a secretary. We could hire someone who already lives in Brookswood, but, if you know of a young lady here, who would fit that role, perhaps…”

“Ah,” Sister Julia brightened up. “I will keep it in mind.”

“Thank you.”

“Well,” the Sister announced, as she stood up. “It’ll be time for afternoon class soon, so we better get your children collected up. It was wonderful to see you again, Joshua.”

Hannibal and Miranda had both stood up with the Sister, and now Hannibal moved in for a hug.

“It was good to see you too, Sister. You’re looking well.”

“And so are you,” she told him, as she gave him an extra squeeze. “Happy and well. My prayers were answered, at least where you are concerned.”

Hannibal nodded, as they separated, though he didn’t quite know how to respond to that. 

Julia then turned to give Miranda a hug.

“It was lovely to see you too, Miranda,” she said. “Now don’t you feel guilty about needing help with those children. It’s the wise person, who knows when they are over-whelmed. Plus, you’re giving River a wonderful opportunity. So, don’t you worry about it.”

“Alright,” Miranda agreed. “I won’t. Thank you, Sister.”

Xxx

The ride back into town, was one of joyous excitement as far as Sally was concerned. She sat in the back seat, cuddling Lily, while talking non-stop about her friend coming to live with them.

The two parents sat up front, smiling indulgently, while their eldest daughter prattled on.

“It’ll be so nice, having River come to live with us,” she stated, yet again. “We can play together, and have fun, like we used to. That is, when she’s not working. I know she’s coming to help out with the twins and all that, but still, she’ll have some time off. And then we can play together. And then, when she’s looking after the babies, Mama, you and I can have fun together again. I really miss having fun with you.”

“I really miss it too, Sweetheart,” Miranda concurred. Walter, worn out by his play with River, was sound asleep in Miranda’s arms. Even the movement of the buggy, and the excited monologue from his sister, wasn’t going to wake him up. “We can go riding together.”

“Yes!” Sally agreed. “That will be so much fun.”

Hannibal smiled wickedly. “Are you still sure that you don’t want us to adopt her?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Are you sure, you don’t want an older sister?”

Silence from the back seat. Hannibal grinned at his wife. Miranda rolled her eyes and sighed in resignation. Her husband always had to be such a tease.

“No,” Sally finally answered, in a tone that brooked no leeway. “I’m the oldest. But, River can still come, and be my friend.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

Heavy sigh from the back seat.

Xxx

The following day, while Miranda and the children visited with Sarah and Evelyn, Heyes rented a horse and rode out to the prison. He had an appointment for a discussion with the warden, and he didn’t want to be late for this one. Even at that, the closer he got to the prison compound, the slower his drive was to get there. Unlike at the convent, this re-visiting of a familiar structure did set heavy with him. It was doubtful that he would ever be able to approach this institution without a feeling of doom settling upon his heart.

Ignoring the weight of this place, he pushed himself forward and arrived at the front door with time to spare. Dismounting, he handed his horse over to a trustee, and saw himself up the steps and into the main hallway. He didn’t need an escort to get to where he was going. He knew where the warden’s office was, though he had approached it more often from the other direction, than from this one.

Approaching the secretary’s desk, Heyes felt those butterflies fluttering again. Why couldn’t he get over this feeling of apprehension? It wasn’t like he was going in to talk with Mitchell. Kenny was a friend. He had been to the Kid’s wedding. Dang! He was at Heyes and Miranda’s wedding! He’d risked life and limb to help save Brookswood from the fire. He was in all the way, to support him and Jed with their new venture. Why was he so nervous?

“Yes sir?” the young man asked, as he looked up from his paperwork.

“I’m here to see Warden Reece,” Heyes told him. “I have an appointment.”

“Your name, sir?”

Heyes felt a slight irritation. There was nobody else here for an appointment at this time. All the secretary had to do was check the ledger. Still, the young man was just doing his job, so Heyes succumbed to protocol. 

“Hannibal Heyes.”

“Oh.” The secretary began to fidget and made the job of checking the ledger far more difficult than it needed to be. “Oh yes. Here you are. Umm, just a moment.”

Heyes nodded, as the secretary stood up and went to knock on the office door.

“Yes?” came Kenny’s voice from inside the room.

The secretary opened the door and stuck his head inside the room. “Ah, Mr. Heyes is here to see you, sir.”

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Shoulton,” Kenny said. “You can send him in.”

“Yessir.” The secretary turned back to the visitor and motioned him forward. “You may go in, sir.”

Heyes nodded again and followed through. Irritation had taken over from nervousness, and then he was irritated at himself for feeling irritated. Part of him was tired of people still recognizing his name, especially when it was a young fellow, who wouldn’t have been out of his knickers during the Devil’s Hole heyday. And yet, he recalled his feelings of betrayal, finding all those Heyes and Curry dime novels sitting in the 5¢ bin, and still not selling. And this kind of recognition was better than the alternative, like that rancher in Wyoming, who was attempting to beat the living crap out of him. And the railroad police, who assumed that he and Jed were responsible for the robbery, simply based on who they used to be. Thank goodness for Joe, on that occasion. Better to be idolized than despised, he presumed.

He was still struggling with this conflict of interest, when he abruptly found himself in the Warden’s Office, and staring into those keen gray eyes. He couldn’t even remember walking through the door.

“Heyes, good to see you,” Kenny greeted him, as the two men shook hands. “Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

“No, no thanks.”

The two men took their seats, and Kenny put aside the forms he had been filling out, then gave his friend his full attention.

“How is it going with the twins?” he asked. “Was the Sister of any help?”

“Yes!” Heyes answered, emphatically. “I think we have the perfect young lady. It will certainly help Miranda, a lot. Twins was more than we bargained for.”

“I can imagine,” Kenny agreed, and then smiled. “How are you liking civilian life?”

Heyes laughed. “Fine! I don’t care what gets thrown at me out there, it’s a hell of a lot better than being in here.”

Kenny sobered, and nodded agreement. “Yes, unfortunately. And things are only getting worse, I’m afraid.”

“Worse?” Heyes asked, with raised brows. “How could it be worse?”

“The board of directors have stopped listening to me,” Kenny explained. “The old school attitudes are winning out. Fortunately, I still have a great deal of leeway, when it comes to how I run this prison, so our program for the parolees isn’t in jeopardy. At least, not yet. But once the new prison in Rawlins is up and running, who knows?”

“Oh.” Heyes felt discouraged. “How long will that be?”

“The way things are going, it’s not going to be any time soon,” Kenny assured him. “Every time they make a move to get it going, things get bogged down in red tape. It could be another ten years, before that prison is in full operation.”

Heyes grinned. “Oh yeah?”

Kenny chuckled. “Yes. I’m not throwing in the towel yet. So, you said that you had something you wanted to discuss with me. What’s on your mind?”

“Well,” Heyes began. “Ah, our little house in town is too small for everything we want to do, so me and the Kid, well, we decided that it would be a good idea to buy the Baird ranch. We made some good money on that last job we pulled…” Kenny smiled at Heyes’ choice of words. “…so we figured we could afford to buy it, and then fix it up, so that it’s livable. Goodness knows how anybody lived in that place up until now. It’s pretty run down. Anyway, we figured that if you could send out four fellas, instead of just two, they could help re-build the place. We’d get the parolee quarters built first, so they would have a place to stay real quick, then get the house re-built, that way Miranda and the children could get out of our little place. Not to mention, we have two other people coming to stay with us. Then finally, we would get the barn built.   
“The property already comes with livestock, but once it’s up and running, we can always get more. And apparently, there is already a demand for Ned’s offspring. We have a number of foals due later this spring, and then next year, we’ll be crawling with them. We’re going to need a lot of hands to help out with their training and handling, not to mention getting them to prospective buyers. Words getting around that the Double J has some nice, up and coming Quarter Horses, so it could get really busy. If we have our own ranch, then Jesse doesn’t have to worry about having these fellas on his ranch, when he doesn’t really know what they might do. If we have our own ranch, specifically for the parolees, then it would probably make for a lot less tension, all around.  
“Then we can use the house in town as our office and, you know, a place for visitors to stay where it’s maybe more convenient. Especially, if someone doesn’t feel comfortable being out at the ranch with the parolees. Plus, it would make for a good meeting place, or for a lay-over, if any of us need to catch the night train into Denver.  
“So, if you could send us even a couple of more fellas, just to get things up and running, that would be great. As long as you think, they’re trustworthy, that is. We don’t want them running off as soon as our backs are turned. That wouldn’t be good. But I’m sure you know what you’re doing there, so I leave that up to you.”

Kenny sat forward in his chair, elbows on the table, with his steepled fingers resting against his lower lip. He silently listened to this familiar rambling on of ideas, each of them tumbling over the other, in a rush to come out as words. When Heyes finally stopped talking, Kenny remained in his attentive position and allowed the onslaught to settle. Heyes felt himself wanting to fidget, as those sharp gray eyes considered him, until they finally blinked, and the light of a smile flickered through.

Kenny leaned back then, resting his hands on the arms of his chair.

“How do you feel about having your wife and children living out on the ranch, with parolees as ranch hands? It sounds to me like you’re not always going to be there.”

“I thought about that,” Heyes concurred. “Wheat and Kyle will be there for six months out of the year. They’ll keep an eye on things.”

“And what about the other six months?”

“I don’t know,” Heyes admitted. “I’m still working on that. Ames might stay on through the winter months and help out.”

“Do you think that Mr. Ames is responsible enough for that?”

“He’s come a long way, Kenny,” Heyes insisted. “He really pulled his own, during the fire.”

“I know. I was there,” Kenny pointed out. “I was still seeing some of the fire bug in him. He held it together, and did his share, but he had Carlson and Murtry there to support him. Do you really think, that when left on his own, he is ready to be in charge of other parolees, and have them respect him?”

Heyes thought about it for a moment, then had to concur. “Probably not.”

“No, I don’t think so, either,” Kenny agreed. “Perhaps in time, but not yet. He still needs to feel accountable to someone, and since his release from prison, that someone has always been, and still is, Wheat Carlson.” 

“Yeah,” Heyes finally had to admit to the truth of that. “Wheat can’t stay in Colorado through the winter months, and Kyle won’t stay without him. On the other hand, I probably won’t be away much during the winter months. And if I do get called away, a solution may have presented itself by then. Besides, I trust your judgement. I doubt you would send anyone to us, who is likely to do harm to a woman and children.”

“I’ll certainly do my best, not to,” Kenny stated, “but even I’m not infallible. Still, they will be screened thoroughly before admitted into this program, and, I expect, each of them will be the other’s keeper. Those who are serious about this opportunity, won’t want to see someone else mess it up for them.”

“True enough. So…can you do it? Can you send us a couple of more fellas?”

“I’ll look into it,” Kenny assured him. “I think it’s a good idea on the most part. A separate ranch, apart from the Double J and the Second Chance would be an ideal situation. I just can’t guarantee that there will be two more inmates who are ready to start this early. Might I suggest that you solicit the Colorado Penal Board about contributing to the program? Governor Barber is agreeable to allowing parolees to cross the state line in order to take advantage of the program, but you know how secure that is. A change in governor could mean a change in policy.”

Heyes snorted. “Don’t I know it! That was a living nightmare.”

“Yes.”

“But, as long as the governor of Colorado is agreeable,” Heyes ventured. “why would the governor of Wyoming have anything against it?”

Kenny shrugged. “Who knows? Like I said, the attitude of the board of directors is becoming more and more hard core. They may decide it’s simply asking for trouble. But, if we have the governors on our side, we stand a better chance of keeping things moving ahead. Why don’t you set up a meeting with Governor Routt and discuss this situation with him?”

“Oh.” Heyes felt uncomfortable with this suggestion. “Why would the governor of Colorado be willing to listen to me?”

“Why?” Kenny asked him. “Because you’re the one who started this whole thing. You’re the inspiration.”

“Me?” Heyes stated. “Kenny, this was your idea.”

“An idea that could only take shape, and work, because you stayed true to your parole,” Kenny pointed out. “Heyes, if you had broken your parole, and fled the country, none of this would be happening now. Allowing you out on parole was a risk that was hard fought for. The powers that were, finally decided to take a chance on you. Like I told you before, if you had thrown mud in everyone’s faces, and run off, nobody would be getting a chance at a parole now. Especially anyone high profile. There would not have been a single official who would have been willing to take the chance again. Whether you like it or not, you are the spokesperson for this program. You’re the one, they’ll listen to.”

Heyes sighed. “Crap! Maybe I can take Lom with me.”

Kenny chuckled. “Look,” he offered. “To help you out, why don’t I send a letter of introduction to Governor Routt. I can give him a head’s up about you coming to see him, and why. Let’s face it, Heyes, the more people in high places whom we have on our side, the more likely it is that we can keep the program going.”

“Yeah, I know, you’re right,” Heyes agreed. “I never saw myself as a diplomate before. That’ll be the biggest con I ever pulled.”

“But for all the right reasons.”

Heyes slumped. “How do you always manage to get me pulled into these things?”

“It’s not hard.” Then, before Heyes could challenge him on that, Kenny changed the subject. “So, you’re coming to our place for dinner tonight?”

“Yes,” Heyes concurred, though he sent Kenny a look at the suggestion that he was easy to manipulate. “I expect Randa and Sarah already have the evening planned out.”

“Probably,” Kenny agreed. “I’m looking forward to meeting these twins. So…Walter, huh?”

Heyes gave an impish smile. “Yeah. Do you think he’d mind?”

“No,” Kenny assured him. “On the outside, I expect he would sputter and curse you for a fool, but I think he’d be honoured.”

“Yeah. I hope so.”

“I hear he’s already living up to his name sake.”

“Oh Kenny! You have no idea!”

Xxx

It had become apparent, right from the start, that the Heyes twins were as different from one another as night was to day, winter was to summer. Yet both caused their parents no end of both concern and overwhelming pride as the years passed and they grew into their own person.

Walter, like Rebecca and Anya before him, took on much of his father's colouring. The shape of the face and the dimples must have been strong in the Heyes family genetics, as they repeatedly showed up everywhere. The boy's eyes were the same chocolate brown, but the almond shape of them, and the colouring of his hair, took after his mother. Hannibal's hair, though brown, tended towards the lighter tones, especially in the summer. But Walter's brown was so dark, it could almost have been black until the sun hit it, and the brown undertones shone through.

The boy proved to be a handful. He lacked patience, and though most children can be self-serving and demanding, Walter took these traits to a whole new level. When he wanted something, he wanted it NOW and displayed quite the temper when he didn't get it. He wanted to be the best and he wanted to be the first. The fact that his twin was older than him, even though it was only by minutes, rankled him far into his adult years. It was mainly due to Lily's sweet and loyal nature towards him, that enabled the two of them to remained close throughout their lives.

Hannibal feared for his son's happiness. Seeing the boy developing, he had to finally accept some hard truths about himself, truths he would have preferred to leave in the shadows. Hannibal, after much head butting and internal turmoil, had finally come to realize how his own arrogance and feelings of entitlement had created its own bed of hot coals for him to lay in. Finally, when in extreme hindsight, he came to realize these facts, he consoled himself with the illusion that it was due to his tragic beginnings. If it hadn't been for the civil war, if he hadn't lost his family at such a young age and under such violent circumstances. If he hadn't spent his formative years at Valparaiso. It was these events that had moulded the young Hannibal into the angry and arrogant outlaw, who took what he wanted, when he wanted it. 

Now, seeing those same traits showing up in his son, he finally had to admit to himself that these were not due to outside influences. This is who he was. All those other events, that he had conveniently blamed for his choices, could no longer hold up under pressure. True, with his parents' love and continued influence, he probably would not have become an outlaw, but the traits that had lead him there, would still have been the same.

Perhaps, like Abi, he would have turned to law enforcement instead of the criminal trail, and been just as single-minded and bull-headed in that capacity, as he had been as the notorious gang leader. Then a thought hit him that sent a shiver down his spine. Perhaps the reason that he and Tom Morrison were such volatile adversaries was because Heyes recognized much of himself in the lawman. He could never be as cruel as Morrison was, but that same bullheadedness, that same determination to win at all cost, now stared him in the face.

He was forced to admit that his son was already genetically wired for a difficult path in life. There were going to be many lessons he will be forced, by his own stubbornness, to learn the hard way, with plenty of knocks and bruises at every step. The father's heart went out to the son. He could see the boy's road stretching out before him, as though it were written in a book and there wasn't anything Hannibal could do, to divert it.

He sent up a silent prayer to the powers that be, to allow himself and Miranda to stick around long enough to raise their children into adulthood. If they could remain there for Walter, to support him on his journey, then perhaps, they could help to make his path a little less rocky, and the lessons not quite so painful. The last thing he wanted for any of his children, was for them to follow the same path he had laid out for himself. He felt confident that Sally and Lillian would stay true, but the Hunter would only need an excuse to rebel, and then he might be lost to them. Just the thought of that possibility broke the father's heart.

As for the physical attributes, where Walter was dark in both appearance and temperament, Lillian was light and sunshine, itself. Where Walter took after the Heyes family, Lillian took on many physical traits from the Curry line. As earlier mentioned, she inherited the famous dimples plus the perky nose, but her hair and eyes were a different matter. The soft brown baby fuzz was soon replaced by blonde curls and the dark infant eyes gradually paled to an ultra-marine blue.

And yet, there was no denying her heritage. Where Walter embraced his father's extroverted traits, Lillian epitomized the introverted part of him. Hannibal smiled, when he recalled Abi describing Rebecca to him, that she had been so much quieter than Anya, so much more the little thinker, rather than the exuberant doer. Now, Hannibal could clearly see the same differences in the twins.

Yet, though perhaps not surprisingly, since he was a parent now, Hannibal worried about the happiness of his youngest daughter, as well. He knew, she was extremely intelligent, but she rarely showed it and often struggled with the most basic of her lessons at school, simply through lack of attention. She was a dreamer. It was not unusual, to find her sitting by herself on the front porch, with a vacant look in her eyes and a soft smile upon her face.

Miranda was constantly having to snap the child out of it. Getting and keeping her attention in the here and now, was more wearing upon the mother's patience than trying to keep track of her overly energetic son. At least they always knew where Walter was, even if what he was doing was undesirable. But Lillian was secretive, quietly sitting on her own and completely lost in her own thoughts.

Sally shrugged it off as nothing to worry about. Lily had simply been born in the wrong time, so she retreated inside her own head, to create a world where she was free to be who she was. She would eventually find herself and learn how to be comfortable in the world that was presented to her. Why did the adults seem to think this was something to be upset about? Lily was a beautiful soul and given time, she would find her way.

Hannibal and Miranda would exchange looks and shrug their shoulders. What did that mean; born in the wrong time? She was here, what other time could there be? Sally would not elaborate and ran off to play skipping rope with her friends.

Still, Sally's words gave the parents some comfort. They had long since learned not to ignore comments made by their eldest daughter. Even the most casual observations, especially those that made no sense at the time, invariably revealed their meaning later on down the road. And Lillian did indeed, become the little darling of the Heyes and Curry clans. She was so sweet and loving in temperament that no one could stay mad at her for long, not even her over-bearing brother.

The relationship between Walter and Lillian amazed everyone. Though often it is said that twins have a stronger connection to each other than separate siblings, these two were so different in character and appearance that it did not seem possible that they would bond so completely. Though River was usually successful in enticing Walter to behave, on those days when he was particularly obnoxious, Lily was the only one who could get Walter down off his high horse and see reason. It was her who got him to school, and it was her that made sure he stayed in school, rather than run off to pull the pin out of the mercantile delivery wagon's wheel. It was her that kept him grounded.

In return, he was her grand protector. When the other children teased her for being 'strange', the Hunter wouldn't hesitate to bloody some noses to set them straight. Neither Hannibal nor Miranda could find it in their hearts to punish him for this. And again, Hannibal would be taken back in time, to his own protectiveness towards his younger, and then smaller, cousin, at Valparaiso. So, the boy would be reprimanded in front of the offended parents, but then given a pat on the back in private. Just be more discreet next time, alright?

Lillian worshipped her brother, and Walter adored his sister, despite the unfortunate timing of their births. Sally, who could easily have felt like the odd one out, actually blossomed in her role as older sister and mother's helper, even though it was River who did most of the helping. Sally did not have a jealous bone in her body, except when it came to Fannie. Fannie was not up for grabs. Fannie was her horse, given to her by her papa, and she made that stance very clear, long before her younger siblings were old enough to even think about it. Heyes would smile and muse to himself that it was fortunate they had moved into a larger home on some acreage AND that they had an in with at the local stud farm. More horses were in their future.

Xxx

The Double Chance Ranch and Security grew and prospered, making all of the company’s shareholders more than just financially secure. It would not be fair to say that Hannibal and Jed became wealthy, beyond their wildest dreams, because both of them could dream pretty big, but they did alright for themselves. Their reputations as being trustworthy private detectives began to grow, and soon they were well known and respected for digging out the most ingenious corporate money launderers and embezzlers. Heyes thrived on the challenge, and Jed always got a kick out of snapping the trap. They had fun.

Ned had fun, too. Only the finest quality mares were selected to spend time with that gentleman, and that’s when Jesse permitted any outside breedings. On the most part, he kept Ned exclusive to their holdings, and that stud repaid the kindness by doing a right fine job of reproducing himself. It wasn’t long before he was considered one of the best Quarter Horse studs in the West, and the only one in Colorado who was worth breeding to, or buying the get of, if you wanted a top-notch ranch horse. The earnings made from Ned’s first full season alone, as stud, was enough to get the Double J up and running in the black again.

The parolee program went through some learning curves in that first year. It wasn’t profitable, but nor was it intended to be. The parolees were kept and fed, and in return, they did whatever was needed to keep the ranch up and running. Kenny had been right about them regulating themselves. If any one of them started getting ideas about running off, or causing trouble, he was soon put in his place by the others. Most of them were there to earn a clean slate, and none of them wanted to go back to prison.

The ranch lucked out in the beginning of its second year, when a young parolee by the name of Cal Emmerson joined the program. He had grown up on a ranch, until bad weather and bad timing had driven it into the ground. He’d succumbed to the outlaw trail in an effort to save his family home, but instead, earned himself five years in prison. Kenny felt that he was basically, a good kid and just needed a chance to prove it.

Having spent his childhood around horses and wranglers, Cal was a natural when it came to handling the young horses. He loved it, and with Deke teaching him even more gentling ways, Cal soon took over as head wrangler at the Double Chance and decided to stay permanent. Of course, part of the reason for the decision, was that he’d fallen head over heels for River, and he was intent upon pursuing his interests.

River was not that keen, at first. She was happy in her position as nanny for the Heyes family. Why would she want to jeopardize that? Besides, she was far too young to be taking on a husband, so Cal was just going to have to wait. And he did, too. On the date of her 20th birthday, Cal proposed marriage to River, and she accepted.

As a wedding gift, all hands got together, and built the new couple their own home, right there on the property. Cal continued on as head wrangler, and River maintained her positon as nanny. Even after her own children began to arrive, she managed, much to Miranda’s amazement, to keep both sets of broods on an even keel. Even with Walter thrown in the mix.

Jed and Beth did as they had planned on doing, and their family grew, both with their own natural born young’uns, and a couple of adoptees thrown in. Everyone, not just Miranda, were amazed at how well Beth handled everything. Even as her family grew, she carried on as financial adviser and book keeper for both ranches, and never seemed to miss a beat. Of course, the young woman who had been hired right out of the orphanage, to take over the secretarial responsibilities in town, helped out a lot. She and Beth, sharing an interest in numbers and thriving on tracking down discrepancies in the books, soon became fast friends.

Heyes and Miranda decided that three was enough for them, and Sally was secure in her position as the eldest. By the time she actually did come to meet her older sister, she and Anya were no longer children, and sibling rivalry did not exist between them. As a child, Sally ended up having plenty of cousins, both blood and honorary, to keep her occupied, not to mention, her own two siblings. But the time she was able to spend with her mother, either in the kitchen, or out riding their horses, was very special to both of them, and they jealously guarded those times that they were able to spend together. 

The first year of marriage for Harry and Isabelle was tumultuous, to say the least. There were plenty of yelling matches, as each tried to maintain the upper hand. But after a year of fighting, they both seemed to tire of it, and called a truce. Isabelle decided to let Harry think that he was the boss, and Harry was happy to believe the lie. But most surprisingly of all, was Isabelle’s transformation into an unofficial, undercover agent.

Though Pinkerton’s and Bannerman’s no longer hired women as agents, Heyes and Curry had no such prejudices. Whenever a woman’s subtle touch was required to gain information, Isabelle was recruited. Like a feminine snake-in-the-grass, she was a natural at slithering her way into the hearts and confidences of their quarry and acquiring the goods, as they say. Harry couldn’t have been more proud of her, and the marriage thrived. As hoped for, they never did have children.

The first summer than Nathanial Brenner came to visit, the ranch house was still under construction. As it turned out, David and Tricia offered their spare bedroom for the young man to use, in exchange for reading rights to his essay. Hannibal ended up enjoying the process. Though at first, he was anxious about drudging up old memories, once he started talking about them in a more relaxed setting than a courtroom, he found the whole experience to be cathartic.

By the following summer, the Double Chance was an up and running facility. The main house, though not so opulent as to compare with Big Mac’s ranchero, was an impressive, and state of the art dwelling. The two storey log home consisted of a wrap around veranda, six bedrooms on the upstairs floor, and on the main, a large, inviting entrance, family room, large dinning room and an impressive parlour for entertaining prospective clients and buyers. It also had a large, convenient kitchen, and an indoor privy!

The walls of the family room were adorned with a steadily increasing collection of family portraits, wedding pictures and new arrivals. The dinning room and parlour were home to photographs of all the horses that had helped bring the Double Chance into being: Fannie, of course, had the place of honour, as the matriarch, then Karma, her daughter, Daisy, and her son, Ned. On the other side of the room were the stallions, Australian, and next to him, the big handsome bay stallion, only known as Jack, who was Karma’s sire. Then, Daisy and Ned’s sire, Pine Knot. On the far wall, being displayed all by itself, was a large full body painting of Ned, looking all splendid and pleased with himself. And a commissioned painting of Karma’s portrait hung in the living room where mostly just family and friends could view her.

Splendid stallion that he was, Heyes decided not to breed Karma to Alejandro after all. That mating would do nothing to promote their bloodlines and now that Hannibal had an invested interest in their Quarter Horses, he thought it best to stick with that. When it came time to retire Karma to making babies, he bred her Pine Knot’s half brother, Lock’s Rondo and again, the quality came through.

So just as the family portraits increased in numbers over years, so too, did the equine portraits increase. Patrons and tourists, entering the famous ranch house would feel like they were walking into a museum, filled with statues and portraits and paintings of the long line of champion Quarter Horses. And, the opportunity to immures themselves into the rich, full history of not only the West, but of the two notorious outlaws, who made good.

Xxx

SUMMER 1895

The fire in the pit was still burning with the added fuel, and as the gleaming turned to full night, the shadows of the men seated around it, danced and flicked along with the flames. It was a warm summer evening, and no real need for the warmth of a fire, but sometimes, there’s just something about sitting around a fire that brings a certain ambiance to casual and relaxed conversation between friends.

Buckets, filled with sugar water had been placed, strategically, around the outer parameter of the circle, in order to keep away the flying annoyances, while the men quietly discussed plans, family and passed heroics, well into the night. Blu was stretched out by his master’s feet, contentedly listening to the conversation, but not feeling an need to contribute. 

“That’s two years that went by real fast,” Jed commented, as he took a swig from the whiskey bottle, and handed it to his right.

Lom accepted it, and partook of the contents. “This is a real up and coming place. You boys have put yourselves on the map.”

“How is your place coming along, Jed,” Kenny asked. “Is it going to rival Heyes’ house, here?”

“You bet’cha,” Jed confirmed. “Can’t have him bein’ one up on me.”

Heyes chuckled softly. “With the plans you and Beth have for family, you’re going to need a place twice the size of this little abode.”

Wheat snorted. “Little abode! You gone all rich and fanciful on us, Heyes. And you too, Kid. Dang. Between the to of ya’, you got enough room ta’ house the whole state ‘a Wyoming.”

“What do you mean, rich and fanciful?” Heyes asked, all indignant. “It’s a ranch house. I designed it to be big, so people can come and stay. Like now. Even at that, with this group, the place is bursting at the seams. Hmm, we might have to add on to it.”

Everybody laughed at that.

“There are those of us, who don’t mind sleeping in the bunk house,” Joe pointed out. “You only have four hands right now, and that place is big enough to house 20.”

“Not just house ‘em,” Wheat pointed out. “But set ‘em up in style. Dang! That place is more comfy than the leader’s cabin was, back in Devil’s Hole.”

“I’m certainly comfortable in there,” Mr. Brenner confirmed. “It’s nicer than my dorm at college.”

“You’re welcome to come back to the house, once some of the guests have gone,” Heyes reminded him. “There will be plenty of room.”

“Yes, I know,” Nathan assured him. “But it’s interesting, listening to the stories those men have to tell. It’s giving me a different perspective on the outlaw life.”

Wheat snorted. “Them fellas are outlaw wanna-be’s. None ‘a them ain’t done nothin’ too serious. It’ll be more interestin’ when we get a real outlaw in here fer you ta’ interview.”

“I already have a real outlaw to interview,” Nathan pointed out, and sent a pointed glance over to Heyes. “Not to mention yourself, and Mr. Curry.”

Wheat shifted on his log, and coughed with embarrassment. “Oh well, yeah. ‘A course ya’ do.”

“How many rooms does it have?” Kenny asked, getting the subject back to the bunk house.

“It’s got 10 bedrooms, each with two bunks apiece,” Wheat informed him, relieved to find a way out of being on the spot. “And each room has its own damn stove! And that ain’t countin’ the common room and kitchen. Geeze, Heyes, I’m surprised you can get them fellas out’a there to go to work.”

Heyes took a sip of whiskey, then passed the bottle over to Jesse. Then he shrugged. “Just because a man made some mistakes, and has to work hard to get back on his feet, doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be comfortable.”

“I have a feeling, there is more to it than that,” David commented. “You didn’t really need to make the bunk house into a hotel.”

Heyes and Kenny exchanged humorous looks.

“You’re right,” Kenny concurred. “Myself, Heyes and Jed had a serious discussion about an issue that concerned us all. And that was security.” 

“Yeah,” Jed continued. “None ‘a us have the time ta’ be nurse-maidin’ these fellas. We had ta’ have some way ‘a incouragin’ ‘em ta’ stay put.”

“And what better way,” Heyes explained, with a smile. “than to give him such a comfortable place to live, that he doesn’t want to leave?”

“But then he don’t wanna leave at all,” Wheat pointed out. “Come time, when his parole is up, we’ll have ta’ take a shotgun just ta get ‘im off the place.”

“Well,” Jed explained. “We’re hopin’ that once a fella’s parole is up, he’ll be feelin’ pretty good about himself, and want ta’ move on ta’ his own life.”

“You can always threaten them with being transferred to the Second Chance,” Scott Medgar suggested. “They certainly won’t find the accommodations there, quite so luxurious.” 

“Nor at the Double J,” Jesse put in. 

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” Harry put in. “The longer they stay past their parole, the worse their accommodations get.”

Silence ensued around the fire, as Harry’s comment sunk in.

“That just might work,” Jesse commented.

“Yeah,” Heyes quietly agreed, as he considered the possibilities.

“What?” Harry sat up a bit straighter. “Ya’ mean, it actually is a good idea?”

“Yeah, Harry,” Jed told him. “Ya’ do come out with ‘em, on occasion, ya’ know.”

“Well yeah,” Harry agreed. “A’ course I do. That’s what I’m here for, you know. I’m the ideas man.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as ta’ say that,” Jed countered. “But ya’ do have a knack of stumblin’ across one or two, just by talkin’.”

“Best way, Kid,” Harry informed him. “Best way.”

Jesse was still busy, contemplating the idea. “I can afford to put up a larger bunk house,” he said, speaking his thoughts out loud. “The Double J is well into the black, now. We could use a new bunk house, anyway.”

“Just don’t make it too nice,” Heyes pointed out. “That would be defeating the purpose. But, if we’re going to do that, we would have to use the Double J, and not the Second Chance.”

“Good point,” Scott agreed. “With Allie’s halfway house for hardship women already set up there, having ex-cons moving in as well; that could be asking for trouble.”

“Yes,” David agreed. “I’m sure those ladies already have enough to deal with. They don’t need a bunch of fellas coming around, soliciting their attentions.”

“Yeah,” Heyes affirmed. “So, like I said; it would be up to the Double J to take on the over-flow. On the other hand, some of them might be worth keeping on. That new fella, Cal, he really has a fine hand with the young horses.”

Kenny smiled. “When I learned his history, and took note of his way with the cats at the prison, I thought he would make a good candidate for this program. I’m glad to hear, he is working out.”

“So far,” Heyes agreed. 

Scott stretched and happened to glance over his shoulder, towards the ranch house. 

“Must be getting late,” he commented. “All the lights in the house are out. Just the porch lantern is burning. Everyone must have gone to bed.”

All eyes turned towards the house. 

“It can’t be that late,” Heyes commented, as he glanced up at the star lite night sky. “The moon’s not fully up yet.”

“It was a busy day for everyone,” Jed pointed out. “I ain’t never seen so many young’uns all in one place. And I gotta admit, I was gettin’ dizzy, tryin’ ta’ keep track of ‘em all.”

“There is quite a brood, isn’t there?” David concurred, and smiled at Joe. “And more on the way.”

All eyes shifted from the house and zeroed in on the young sheriff.

“Something to tell us, Joe?” Jesse asked him

Even in the flickering light of the fire, Joe’s embarrassed, but pleased smile shone through.

“Yeah,” he concurred. “Pansy’s in the family way.”

A chorus of ‘woohoo’s!” made its rounds of the group. Those who were sitting closest to Joe plastered him with back slaps and hair ruffling, and the young man smiled through it all.

“Welcome to fatherhood,” Jed said. “Your life is about to change.”

“That’s for sure!” Heyes concurred. “But it’s not all bad.”

“Oh, come now,” David protested. “There’s nothing better. You fellas who don’t have children, have no idea what you’re missing out on.”

“Yeah, and I’d like to keep it that way, too,” Wheat grumbled.

“I married too late,” Lom mused. “But when I see the relationship that Martha has with her adult children, I wonder sometimes. It might’a been nice.”

“Let’s have a drink to that,” Scott suggested. “To fatherhood, and congratulations, Joe.”

“We can’t,” Harry commented. “Nothin’ left in the bottle.”

“Ye of little faith,” Heyes reprimanded, as he reached behind his chair. “I just happen to have a second bottle, right here. I had a feeling the first one wasn’t going to last long.” He uncorked it, raised it in a toast to Joe, and took a drink. “Congratulations, Joe. May this young’un be the first of many.” Then he passed it on to the next in line.

Unnoticed by those around the fire, as the bottle made the rounds, a slightly waving lantern had slowly made its way towards the group. It stopped, just outside the ring of celebrators, and Kyle’s face, like a spectre in a ghost story, appeared out of the flickering shadows.

“When you fellas gonna be callin’ it a night?” he groused. “Me and them boys got us an early mornin’ tomorrow.”

“If’n them boys can’t sleep through the little bit ‘a noise, we’re makin’,” Wheat answered him, “then they didn’t work hard enough today. Maybe we can remedy that, tomorrow.”

“Well,’ Kyle hesitated, not wanting to be the bringer of more work. “I suppose, most of ‘em are sleepin’.”

“It’s just you, that ain’t,” Wheat stated.

“I can’t help it,” Kyle defended himself. “I’m worried about Ames.”

“C’mon, Kyle,” Jed said. “Pull up a log and sit down. Here, have a drink.”

Kyles’ wide grin showed plainly in the lantern light. “Sure!”

Joe took his drink from the bottle, and passed it along to Kyle.

“Why are you worried about Ames?” Kenny asked. “Isn’t he here with you?”

“Nope,” Kyle informed him. “He done found hisself a lady friend, down there in Californie. He figured that summer was the best kind ‘a courtin’ weather, and he didn’t wanna lose his place in line.”

“He stayed down in California on his own?” Kenny asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yeah,” Kyle concurred. “Ain’t that alright?”

“Certainly,” Kenny assured him. “Ames is a free man. I didn’t think, he was ready to be on his own yet, that’s all. Good for him.”

Relieved, Kyle’s smile grew, and he took another swig from the bottle, before passing it on.

“Yeah,” he continued. “Ain’t nothin’ like a lady ta’ give ya’ incentive.”

“Except you’ve been mopin’ around, like a cat that’s lost its kitten,” Wheat complained. “It ain’t like ya’ never gonna see ‘im again.”

“I know.” Kyle was again on the defensive. “Yur missin’ ‘im too.”

“No, I ain’t,” Wheat denied. “I’m glad ta’ be rid ‘a the little firebug. I’m almost thinkin’ ‘a stayin’ on here, come fall. It might be worth it.”

Heyes perked up at the sound of that. “Are you serious, Wheat?”

“Well…I ain’t sure,” Wheat grumbled, trying to back off his statement, now that his bluff was getting called. “Stayin’ here, inta’ winter fer yer weddin’, almost did me in.”

Heyes slumped. “I suppose the colder months are hard on you.”

“Yeah,” Wheat concurred, but with a slightly changed attitude. “But it does seem ta’ be getting’ better. What did ya’ have in mind?”

“It’s great, having you here in the summer, ramroddin’ these fellas,” Heyes explained. “But we really do need a full-time foreman. I was kind of hoping, it would be you.”

Wheat pondered that suggestion for a moment. Kyle’s eyes flicked back and forth between his ex-leader and his current one. He wasn’t sure which way, he wanted this to go.

David was skeptical. “The reason that you’re feeling better, is because you’re living in a dryer climate,” he pointed out. “I’m not sure, you moving back here, year round, is a good idea.”

“It’s worth a try, though, ain’t it?” Wheat countered. “I gotta admit, I kind’a miss it here. I don’t much care fer desert livin’, and Californie seems ta’ attract a lot ‘a loonies. People here are more my kind’a folk.”

“It won’t do you any good, if you catch pneumonia,” David pointed out.

“Being the foreman, he wouldn’t necessarily be out, working the stock,” Heyes commented. “It would be more supervising, and managing. He could take it easy, the first winter, and see how it goes.”

“Yeah!” Wheat agreed, liking this idea, more and more.

David still looked skeptical. “I’m concerned, that’s all,” he admitted. “It’s your decision, of course.”

“David,” Heyes complained. “You’re not happy if you’re not concerned about someone.” Then he backed off, when David sent him an exasperated glare. “Yeah, alright! I guess, in this case, you do have a point. But it sure would solve some problems, if Wheat and Kyle moved back here, full-time.”

“What do you think, Kyle?” Wheat turned on his partner. “You wanna go on livin’ in Californie, or come back here, where we belong?”

Kyle looked around at the group, kind of wishing that he had stayed in the bunkhouse. He didn’t like being put on the spot.

“Dang, I donno,” he admitted. “It’s kind’a nice, down there in the winter. Still,” he looked around through the darkness, “it’s awful nice here, too. I ain’t never lived so good.”

Heyes grinned, hoping that he had won the debate. 

“And we’d pay you well, too,” he added, as more incentive. “Both of you. And if Ames wants to come back, full-time, he’d get a regular hands full wage. Which is more than what the parolees get.”

Wheat grinned. “We’ll think on it,” he stated. “Still a ways ta’ go before the fall, anyways.”

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed.

“Good.”

David sighed, his mind already going over the various different medications he had on hand, to help stave off pneumonia. A decongestant, to keep the lungs clear would certainly help. There must be more he could do though. His mind raced over the possibilities. He would do some research when he got home again, and order some things in, just to have on hand.

Jesse stretched and yawned. “I don’t know about you fellas, but I’m ready for bed.”

“Yeah,” Scott concurred. “Probably time to call it a night. Allie and I need to get an early start tomorrow.”

“Us, as well,” Lom seconded. “It’s been nice, getting together, though.”

“Yeah, it has,” Heyes agreed. “I’m glad you could all make it. Kenny, you’re staying on a couple of more days, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Kenny answered. “I’d like to ride out, and take a look at the stock tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

“Sure,” Heyes said. “Never miss an opportunity to show them off.”

“I certainly appreciate you gentlemen being willing to talk with me,” Nathan stated. “I’m still pinching myself, just to make sure it isn’t all a dream. The hardest part about writing this essay, is deciding what stories don’t need to go into it.”

“I know, you’ve barely scratched the surface,” David said, “but, so far, what has surprised you the most about Hannibal?”

Nathanial didn’t even have to think about it. He spread out his hands, gesturing towards the group around him.

“This,” he answered. “Two successful ranchers, who are both pillars of their community. A Bannerman detective, two sheriffs, one prison warden, a doctor, and three ex-outlaws. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a diverse range of friends for anyone, let alone, someone of Mr. Heyes’ background. He’s even rubbing shoulders with various state governors. Mr. Curry as well. I think that says a lot for the integrity of both these men, and it’s going to make for some very interesting reading.”

“So,” David continued. “You expect to do well with this thesis topic, then?”

Nathan grinned. “I expect to get honours.”

Everybody laughed, and David nodded in agreement.

“From what I have seen of your writing, so far,” he stated, “I expect you well.”

Heyes and Curry exchanged humorous glances.

“See, Heyes?” Jed said. “We’re gonna be famous.”

Heyes chuckled. “I’m just telling it, like it is, Kid.”

Groans made the circuit, while Wheat snorted audibly. 

“Just don’t forget about talkin’ to the backbone of the Devil’s Hole gang,” he grumbled, indicating himself and Kyle. “Ya’ gotta have someone tellin’ ya’ the truth ‘a things. Just listenin’ ta’ Heyes preening hisself, would give ya’ a lopsided idea of the outlaw life.”

“Hey!” Heyes took exception. “I had hard times, too, ya’ know.”

“Yeah, Heyes.” And Wheat gestured toward the house. “Real hard times.”

The group chuckled as they stood up, knowing that Wheat was just needling his boss. Even Heyes smiled, as he stood up and stretched out his back. He wasn’t the only one either, all of the more seasoned men stretched and rubbed stiffened legs, to get the blood going again. Blu jumped up, recognizing that the party was over, and sat waiting, with lolling tongue, for his boss to head back to the house. Heyes and Jed collected up the buckets of sugar water and used them to douse the fire. Those heading to the bunkhouse, followed Kyle and the lantern to light their way, while those heading to the main house, used the light from the porch lantern to guide them.

Even at that, Kenny tripped over his own feet, and grabbed Heyes’ arm to keep from falling.

“Oops,” Heyes said, as he helped his friend regain his balance. “You’re a little drunk.”

“I am not,” Kenny denied, then tripped again. “Okay, well maybe a little.”

Xxx

Hannibal stretched and yawned, then sighed deeply as he snuggled back into his blanket. He wasn’t quite ready to get up, but he knew that process was inevitable. Once he was awake, his mind would start to turn and any thoughts of being lazy and laying in for awhile, would be whipped out of his consciousness and sent running with shame.

He groaned. He didn’t want to get up yet, but his mind was starting to pick up speed, and the soft light coming in through the bedroom window, indicated that dawn was already past. He stretched again and reached over to feel for his wife. Her absence from the bed, beside him, brought him completely awake, and he turned his head to look upon the place that she usually occupied. 

Sitting up, he glanced down to the two bassinets and found that they were also empty. Was everyone in the household up, but him? He sat quietly for a moment and listened. He couldn’t hear anything, but then, in a house this size, that wasn’t too surprising. He sighed again and pulled himself out of bed. Pulling on his cotton shirt and trouser that he had purchased in Mexico, he padded, barefoot, out to the hallway, and then made his way downstairs.

Half way down, he began to pick up on childish tones coming from the living room. Considering that this was where most of the older children had bunked out for the night, it was not surprising that they were all now congregated in there.

He reached the main floor level and glanced into that room. Sure enough, it appeared that the whole brood of the next generation, were in there, playing and chattering, as children do, without a concern about what the oncoming day might bring them.

Then, his nose twitched, as the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee came his way. His eyes lit up with the glint of addiction, and he was pulled, inescapably, towards the kitchen. He entered that large and welcoming space and was surprised to see only Miranda and Belle there, making preparations for breakfast.

“Good morning,” he greeted them.

Both ladies turned and smiled at him. Miranda came over to give him a hug and a kiss.

“Good morning,” she returned. “Didn’t expect to see you up, this early.”

“Isn’t everyone up?” he asked.

“Heavens, no,” Belle informed him. “The children got us up, but everyone else is still sleeping in. How late did you men come to bed, last night? I for one, did not hear a thing.”

“Neither did I,” Miranda admitted. “And usually, I hear you coming to bed, no matter what the hour.”

Heyes shrugged. “I don’t know what time it was. Bed time.”

Belle smiled at him as she picked up the coffee pot and poured him a cup.

“Here you go,” she said. “We weren’t going to begin cooking breakfast until everyone was up. But if you would like something now…”

“No, no,” Heyes assured her. “Coffee’s fine for now.”

“Alright,” Miranda agreed. “But be off with you. We want to have everything ready to go. There’s quite a gang here to feed, this morning.”

“Yes ma’am,” Heyes accepted, then gave his wife one more kiss. “I’ll be out on the front porch, enjoying my coffee.”

Heading towards the front of the house, Heyes smiled as he noted that the front door was already open, to allow the fresh morning air to waft through the rooms until the sun became too intense to make it feasible. Pushing open the screen door, he walked out onto the wooden porch and felt the temporary coolness of the planks, wash up through his bare feet.

He continued to stand there for a moment, allowing the coolness from the wood, and the soft morning breeze to freshen him. He took a sip of coffee, and smiled. Belle must have had cream already in his cup, and waiting for him. He sighed. It was little things like that, that made him feel good, made him feel loved, letting him know that he always had, and always would, have family.

He sucked in a deep breath and walked further out onto the porch, and to the steps. The coolness now turned to warmth, as he stepped out of the shaded area and into direct sunlight. It was pleasant now, the warmth seeping into his stiff shoulders and chasing away the chill from his bare feet, but he knew that it was going to be another scorcher of a day. Now was the time to enjoy it.

Eying the chairs lined up along the wrap around veranda, he decided against them. They were still in the shade, and he was ready for some more warmth to help ease his morning’s aches and pains. That was the problem with having lived the live he had lived; by the time you hit your 40’s, the body reminds you of all the silly things you did. All the knocks and bangs, cuts and bullets, and just plain wear and tear, come back to haunt you, and insist on coffee and summer warmth to entice them back into the shadows. 

No wonder Wheat was hesitant about coming back for a Wyoming winter. Heyes sighed again, as he came half way down the steps, and then sat down there to gaze out upon his property. He still found it hard to believe that this place was his. Granted, a portion of it belonged to the shareholders, but the land itself, and the house, were all his, free and clear. That was a strange feeling.

He sipped his coffee and noted that there was smoke just starting to rise from the main chimney of the bunk house. The fellas were up, getting coffee started so they could all indulge in a cup, before coming out to tend to livestock. Wheat said that they had organized their routines really well. Being on a rotation schedule, each man took turns being the cook for the day. The down side of that was that he had to be up earlier than the rest, to get the coffee going. The up side, was that he had first dibs on the food. 

Heyes smiled. They’d be out soon, to feed the horses and put the mares and foals out on pasture for the day. Even in the summer, those horses were considered too valuable to leave out over night. The ranch could not afford to lose any of those foals to night stalkers, predators and rustlers, alike. They all came in at night, which meant that they all had to be turned out again, in the morning, and stalls had to be cleaned, before the men had breakfast. Heyes grinned at the thought of others having to work hard, while he could sit and relax on his very own front porch. Hard work was good for these young fellas; it helped to build character.

A child’s laughter then caught his ears. Looking over in that direction, he was surprised to spy his toddler son playing in the dirt of River’s vegetable garden. What was he doing out here, all on his lonesome? Walter was wearing only his nappies and a t-shirt, which is what he generally wore to bed during the warm summer nights, so Heyes surmised that nobody knew that the child was out here.

Heyes smiled wickedly, his dimples digging deeply into his morning stubbled cheeks. What a ruckus that’ll make, when Miranda, or Sally, or River discover that they are one child short. Especially when that one child, was Walter. That little hunter tended to get up to no end of mischief when left to his own devices.

The father sat and watched his son for a while. Walter was sitting on his haunches and digging holes in the rich, fertile soil. He had already pulled up some of the leafy vegetables and had flung them around the garden in his joyful play. Heyes knew that he should be stopping his son from this behaviour, as River had put a lot of time and energy into growing her garden, and the fruits of her labour were very tasty on the dinner plate. But the devil in him rejoiced at watching his young son playing in the dirt with such carefree abandon, and he didn’t have the heart to reprimand him.

Then, finally, as Walter was pulling tenaciously on the leafy head of a buried bunch of radishes, Hannibal decided that it was probably time to put an end to it.

“Walter!” Hannibal called over to him.

The child perked up his head, and his big brown eyes locked on to his father’s. His mouth opened into a huge grin, and a loud and joyous, childish laugh filled up the morning silence. He leaned forward, getting his hands and knees underneath him and straightened his legs. He stayed in that crab-like position for a moment, hands and feet planted into the rich soil, while he got his balance, then he stood up and began the unsteady waddle towards his papa.

Hannibal grinned, his eyes alight with laughter, as he watched his son work his way towards him. From the tops of his eyebrows, to the bottom of his bare feet, the child was covered in dirt, and laughing at the sheer joy of being dirty.

As Walter got closer to him, Heyes could tell that there was something of great value, clutched in the tiny fist.

“What have you got there?” Hannibal asked him.

“Da!” Was the only explanation the father received.

Walter arrived at the bottom of the porch steps and without hesitating, he once again dropped to all fours, and began to climb them, still keeping his right hand clutched around his treasure. Arriving to his father’s level, he stood up and swayed, dangerously. Heyes reached out and took hold of a tiny elbow, just to make sure the child didn’t all over backwards, then held out his other hand, palm up.

“What did you bring me?” he asked.

Walter opened his fist and allowed the contents to drop into his father’s hand. Then he stood back and awaited the reaction.

Hannibal gazed at the pile of moving dirt. His brows went up, as the dark granules trickled through his fingers, to reveal four large, fat, worms, squiggling around his fingers, trying to find a new place to hide.

“You brought me worms?” Heyes asked, hinting at incredulousness.

The child turned shy, his dirty hands coming up to hide his face, but the giggling could still be heard coming out from behind cover. 

“You little hunter,” Heyes teased him. “What’s River going to have to say about her garden, now?”

The pudgy fingers spread apart, just enough for a rascally glint from those warm brown eyes, to shine through. The dimples, that were so much like his father’s, began to grow and to deepen, and with the pleasure of his joke taking him over, the child gazed lovingly at his papa, and then, with a mischievous giggle, he smiled—impishly. 

 

THE END


End file.
